


Morning Star

by NoRoleModels



Series: Enantiodromia [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series, Shin Megami Tensei: Nocturne
Genre: ALSO you don't have to play Nocturne to know what's goin on, Akechi and Joker have a VERY complicated relationship, Alternate Universe - Horror, Anti-Hero Joker VS Evil Palace Rulers, Being Joker Is Suffering, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Blood and Gore, Blood and Torture, Blood and Violence, Deal with a Devil, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/M, Features OCs but only in the backstory, If Persona 5 Was a Horror/Crime Drama, MC's father is Hikawa from SMT III, MC's name is different in this story, Makoto and Joker start off on hard mode, Mental Anguish, Nightmare Fuel, Persona 5 Protagonist Has A Palace, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Drama, Psychological Horror, Self-Hatred, Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, The Phantom Thieves are kinda stuck in the middle, Tragic Romance, VERY extended backstory on our MC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 143,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoRoleModels/pseuds/NoRoleModels
Summary: "It isn't crazy to want to kill everyone responsible for the state of the world, Niijima. It's crazy when you don't."When the thousand years have expired, Satan will be released.Driven to madness by his own failures, and longing to achieve freedom from the sins of his past, he has determined that there is only one path forward: the ruthless pursuit of revolution, against the gods and men who have inherited the order of the world.There will be no stone unturned, no holy place unviolated, no sacrament unbroken. For he alone knows that the only way to attain true freedom is to wrest it from the divine, by any means necessary. He will leave nothing in his wake--be they a Councillor with a golden scepter, a Crow in a black helm, or a Queen in an iron mask.Indeed, if in the name of one's emancipation, may even the whole world be damned.[P5 Chaos Route AU inspired by SMTIII, featuring a morally dubious, intelligent, violent, and manipulative Joker; Kamoshida arc complete; 2/13 arcs complete]
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Amamiya Ren & Maruki Takuto, Amamiya Ren/Niijima Makoto, Kurusu Akira & Maruki Takuto, Kurusu Akira/Niijima Makoto, Maruki Takuto & Persona 5 Protagonist, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Enantiodromia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1956316
Comments: 74
Kudos: 77





	1. As Evening Gives Birth to Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It is in this sense that St. Augustine ... distinguishes two forms of knowledge, a _cognitio vespertina_ and a _cognitio matutina_ , the first corresponding to the _scientia creaturae_ and the second to the _scientia Creatoris_._
> 
> _If we equate _cognitio_ with consciousness, then Augustine’s thought would suggest that the merely human and natural consciousness gradually darkens, as at nightfall._
> 
> _But just as evening gives birth to morning, so from the darkness arises a new light, the _stella matutina_ , which is at once the evening and the morning star—Lucifer, the light-bringer._
> 
> \- Carl Jung, CW 13, Para 299

I believe wholeheartedly that all men ought to be free.

Yet at birth we are molded and formed by the reality that surrounds us, to the point where many have argued that free will is in and of itself an illusion.

Limited in our scope, we act; and we are lectured and raised and addressed by our fathers, who themselves were addressed by their forefathers, who themselves had been taught by their forefathers, and so on. When we lack fathers we are given friends to emulate, and when we lack friends we at the very least have laws and regulations to live by. We are taught righteous paths; taught ethics and conduct and manners.

But I would say, though useful in maintaining order, or forming one's own psychological/moral framework, ultimately none of these things can be said to be objectively true unto themselves.

Some nations love their neighbors; others eat them. Some nations treat women as equal in value to men, and allow them to pursue their own careers and passions; others have them thrown to the streets, cast aside by their fathers for the indignity of being raped. Gurus and philosophers will proclaim violence is inherently self-destructive, yet revolutionaries proclaim violence as the way to claim justice and freedom.

Our morals are the foundation of pretty much every action we take in regards to other people; we are told not to lie to one another, not to insult or berate one another, not to mock and scorn and jeer. Treat others as how we would have them treat us. Sympathy, sharing and caring.

But even describing one another in terms of "good" and "evil" seems out-of-place. If moral behavior is to be measured, I believe it should be more or less reflected in the choices a man makes, not the characteristics they and others project. Even this is a sham, as what is "good" to one, may be a vile monstrous act of sheer evil to another.

After all, totalitarians worldwide have butchered millions, for the sake of building a bridge to Paradise with their bodies. If there's anything to be learned from Stalin, Hitler, Mao, and Pol Pot, it's that the vision of one's ideal world is all the motivation needed to commit unfathomable acts of death and destruction.

We are called to be wise, if nothing else; and you'll have to pardon me but I think even wisdom is in and of itself a falsehood.

Say a man endures and struggles and contends, until finally he achieves something. Then, you can come up with fifteen different quotes from some old philosophers as to why his success was inevitable. Then when that man's castle crumbles, and you'll come up with fifteen other quotes as to why his failure was inevitable.

An ascetic can shirk all worldly things and be considered wise by some, but a bachelor who's tasted the glories of privileged life would see him as a madman. I'm not saying a bachelor would be better than an ascetic, nor am I saying that one must abandon everything of this world to be considered wise. I am saying that even something so upheld by scholars and the philosophers of our time, what constitutes as wise, more often than not widely differs from person to person.

We are born and we are bred in this world, our morals and beliefs more often than not decided for us at the behest of others who claim to know more.

Yet I would say, that even in this world where we are subjected to all manner of differing experiences, that individual freedom can still be attained.

Difficult to achieve, of course, but not impossible to. I believe the true process of freeing oneself begins not from the outside, but from within. Once one becomes aware of himself and his own weaknesses, and internalizes them, only then can one truly set himself on a path beyond anyone else. When man questions, he ascends beyond determinism.

In my view, a free man is one who constructs his own personal standards of good and evil, and follows his code to the letter. Uncaring of society's standards, living his life on his own terms. May the gods themselves be overthrown, if they were to try and suppress his will.

But I am a hypocrite. For I know all too well where such ideas may lead.

If the average man were uninhibited by society, or the morals it constructs, or the pretty little nothings it tells itself to remain afloat, I highly doubt it would lead to beneficial outcomes for either the man or those around him. It's second nature for men to restrict their words and their thoughts and their motives, all for the sake of self-preservation. And that is most likely for the best.

For in a world populated by entities that have each constructed their own goods and evils, nothing is certain and everything is permissible. It's likely that such a world would grant us more Hitlers and Stalins and Maos than perhaps we'd like to admit.

Still. _That_ idea fills me with an unsatisfactory bitterness.

A bitterness that I suppose will remain a simple dull feeling burrowing in my chest, from now until the end of my life.

* * *

A chandelier above me hangs and blares out an array of orange lights, illuminating the rest of the room; for no light enters this place from the outside.

I am in what resembles a cathedral, seated upon one of the dozen pews lining the place. The building itself isn't dingy or decrepit; but the cobblestone bricks that form its structure are dark, gleaming as though they're wet. The plate-glass windows depict patchy shapes; black, horned figures clawing at white bodies, flames surrounding the both of them. None of these figures bear full faces; the black ones have smiling mouths, the white ones have bloodshot eyes.

Before the altar lies the stone statue of a man crucified. But his head has fallen from his shoulders and is nowhere else to be seen. Though he hangs from a cross, neither his hands nor his feet are nailed. Yet he bears gruesome wounds nonetheless, such that anyone who could even sculpt a statue with such detail would immediately be regaled as the finest sculptor of all time.

Suddenly a wooden door opens.

Skin gleaming like porcelain and eyes hardened like ice, the man carries an intensity few others would ever be able to match. Bright, golden eyes. Hair like the sun. There is something inhumane yet dazzling about him and his features, almost like he'd come straight from an oil painting. He moves as though time slows down for him, for even the folds of his deep purple clothes need to take their time to crease.

In his left hand he carries a candelabrum. Approaching the altar, he places down the candelabrum and lights its six candles with a match. He takes his seat and his golden eyes stare directly into mine. Something of a small smile forms along the hard line he has for a mouth.

"Emancipator," he speaks, something chilling yet calming in his tone. "Welcome to the Kingdom of your heart. This is a place between dream and reality, mind and matter. I have summoned you here because I sense great tidings of change, for both yourself and the world you inhabit."

I say nothing. So he continues onward.

"We are kindred spirits, you and I. In your iniquity you called me, though you may not have been aware you did. In time I shall show my true nature in full, but for now, interacting with you like this shall do us nicely."

He stands up and approaches me, sitting by my side. His eyes rise up to the headless, crucified, tortured, man, and he resumes his speech though not even facing me.

"As we speak, the whims and wishes of humanity dance to the ebb and flow of gods and their machinations. Above all else, now more than ever before, mankind seeks freedom—freedom from all who would oppress and restrain them. Freedom from all who would establish their dominion over them, and the the things they dream."

It is now he faces me. His golden eyes glowing perhaps brighter than the sun.

"Your future in particular is marked by great calamity; corrupt individuals and vile gods shall seek to oppress you. The nature of this realm takes the form of your heart. Undoubtedly, the bitterness inside you shall blossom into something truly marvellous. I will do everything in my power to ensure that it happens. For thou art I, and I am thou."

.

.

.

* * *

**11 / 7 / 2014**

I awaken, remembering I'm in the library of Kishibaru.

Since there is a quiz on plants taking place next week, I'd headed over to the library and grab as many books as I can on the subject. Had pages packed with notes, yes. Even had a recorder on during class.

Still, couldn't hurt to want to know more.

Out the window, the sky is grey and the air is cold. Little white snowflakes float down to the glass from the clouds. They hit the panes and melt and all at once they stop existing. Dull and grey, but soothing too.

Kurogawa shouldn't take too long; school's a relatively short distance from the house. No trouble getting here quickly by car.

But the books I borrowed can't fit in my bag, so I have to carry them all the way to the front of my school and wait for my driver to pick me up.

Predictably, I trip and fall down the stairs; such is what happens. So I stay in the middle of an empty hallway, on the third floor of my school.

I think about how livid Father would be if he saw what'd just happened, and then I hear footsteps.

It doesn't matter, whoever's walking toward me. It doesn't matter who's wearing the white sneakers tapping along the ground. It doesn't matter who is picking up one of my books and handing over to me.

Because in the end, after they give me back my book I can just forget ever meeting her—

"Here."

She has blazing green eyes, large and round like a child's. Raven-black hair drifts over face and flows from her head all the way down to her shoulders, each strand of hair aglow with orange from the sunlight peering through the windows.

She is as tall as I am. Her skin is white, almost like that of alabaster. I can't ignore how the peach freckles peppering her cheeks complement her eyes, and her smile, and the blackness of her hair perfectly.

A Kishibaru blazer meant for female students is wrapped around her waist, its arms knotted on her belly button. Wearing a black skirt, white socks, brown loafers, and a white polo shirt, she smiles a demure smile at me as she hands me my Science book.

The moment I know I won't forget her anytime soon is the moment my eyes drift away from her lips and to the blood red scarf wrapped around her neck and draped over her shoulders.

"Hey, what happened to you?" she asks me, hand still carrying my notebook. "Am I _that_ ugly?"

"N-no," I yelp out, the lump in my throat growing ever bigger by the second, "You surprised me, that's all."

She has an incredulous sort of expression on her face as she furrows her brows, "I surprised you?"

I blink at her, wondering what she'd have thought my reaction to someone suddenly emerging from out of nowhere in the middle of an empty hall would've been. "Is that so hard to believe?"

She shrugs, somewhat trying to look casual, "No. Not really. But I'm glad to finally surprise someone in the good way."

"I...don't—"

"Never mind," she quickly says, grabbing about two of the five books lying around the floor, "where do you live? I'll help you take these home."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Sure," she says, as if it's the easiest thing in the world to help someone she's never even met before carry their books all the way back to a house they've never even been to before.

"No, don't. It's fine," I tell her, "I have a car coming…"

She just cuts in, "Then I'll help you take these to the car."

All the while I grasp for a reason as to why she would possibly do something like this so suddenly, " shouldn't do that—"

"Why not?" she asks, again as though doing this is all routine for her.

"Because I was the guy who borrowed these books and it doesn't feel right if someone else just—"

"I'm offering to help you here."

I look at her warily, unknowing what else I could say to her other than "Thank you for your concern, but I can handle this—"

She then drops the books, drops them right to my feet. And my eyes tear themselves away from the red of her scarf and move to the white of her teeth, her lips forming a coy smile. All at once the beauty fades away and all I feel is annoyed.

I ask her, "Why would you—?"

"You don't need my help," she smirks, arms folding.

I take in a very deep breath.

I kneel to the ground and start to pick up my books. But then she punts one of them, sending it three feet away from me.

"Oops," she smirks again.

"...Why did you do that?" I seethe, trying to keep my composure as best as possible.

"You said you didn't need my help," she says again, maintaining her smirk.

I sigh, "You could have handed it over to me."

"Yeah. I could have."

I stand up and head over to get my book, but I stop in my tracks; there is a hand on my shoulder.

"Dude," the girl snorts, chuckling somewhat. "You could just tell me to give it back to you."

I narrow my eyes at her, "You kicked it away from me."

For some reason, her face contorts, like she expected me to react differently. "Are you kidding me? You're letting someone like me push you around?"

I decide to ignore her from this point on.

I don't like how she's addressed me, but I don't really bring it up. Don't want to talk about Dad, or Cybers Communications; not at the moment. So I settle on asking, "How do you know about me?"

She blinks, surprised somewhat, "Everybody knows who you are. Don't you hear the way people talk about you?"

I blink back at her and heave out a small breath, "I...don't really pay attention to those kinds of things."

"Well, you should. It's interesting, hearing the things people say about you..."

I think of asking her about the things that people say. But then I remember I shouldn't care, and instead a more interesting question pops to mind.

"You're not intimidated?"

"Should I be?"

I blink at her, "Wouldn't be surprising if you were."

"Well, I'm not," she says, her chest puffing out as she puts her hands on her hips. "That's for the weak."

"...the weak, huh...?"

"Yeah," she gives me a leery smile, as though she knows of my insecurities in those matters. Then, she picks up my book and hands it over to me.

"Thank you," I said, after managing to pile all the books into a tower again.

"You sure you'll be alright on your own?"

"Yeah. I'm sure."

I walk about a meter or so before all my books fall from my hands again. The girl suddenly bursts into laughter and it quickly gets to the point I fear she'll die if she doesn't get any actual breathing in. I glare at her for a bit as she tries to compose herself. And then I begin picking up my books again, deciding to disregard her if her face purples and she suffocates.

"Oh, come on...," The girl stomps over to me, kneels down, and grabs about half the books before standing up to face me. "I'll carry these books, you carry the others."

* * *

Morishige Hikawa is the Chief Technical Director of Cybers Communication. Been selling cellphones, laptops, desktops, and the like since the early 90's and produces enough good-quality product to rival Kirijo Electronics and the Nanjo Group.

While the house I and my father live in is rather small, I still have a driver, valuable pieces of furniture, exorbitantly large paintings hanging by the walls, the works.

I don't really try to show off my wealth around others, but word gets around easily on who I am the son of, and so it becomes all the easier for people who don't know me to back off. Been like this since forever, so I've gotten rather comfortable with being alone.

So you can imagine how I feel right now, with this… _girl_ breathing down my neck.

Soon enough, we are outside the school gates. Waiting for Kurogawa.

I blink, turning to her. "I've just realized I haven't asked you your name yet."

"You only got that now?" she chuckled, brow raised. "I was waiting for hours."

I give her a neutral expression, "We only met each other a few minutes ago."

She nods, "It felt like hours to me."

"Told you to stop sighing," she scoffed.

Something pops up from the corner of the road. The sedan is black and it is boring but it's also shiny as hell and that's good enough for Dad, I suppose.

"The name's Kana." she blurts as the car pulls up.

"Wh-what?"

"Kana Kohaku."

I blink at her again, more than a little eager to get in the car and leave her. "Nice to meet you, Kohaku-san. You're the strangest person I've ever met."

Kurogawa, a man with harsh angles for cheekbones but strangely warm brown eyes, exits the front of the car and gestures.

"Sorry for keeping you. I ran into some trouble," I say to him.

She whispers, "You have a butler, too?"

"Driver."

I head in the car, Kohaku handing me the rest of my books as I take my seat.

"Well, thank you very much for your help today, Kohaku-san," I say in an attempt to sound as formal and forgettable as possible. "I'll see you around—"

"Call me Kana."

I blink at her and I stammer and I blush kind of madly, but I make myself stop freaking out just in time for me to ask, "Your first name?"

"Yeah," she chuckles again, as I flail in my awkwardness. "Just call me Kana."

"Wh-why? Isn't that—?"

She shrugs, "Doesn't matter to me if we just met or if we've been friends for a billion years. Call me Kana. Calling me by my last name is too formal. Not used to it."

The way she says it all so casually shames me, and in my shame I can't help but mutter out a meek, "So...K-Kana, thanks for your help."

"...can I ask a favor of you?" she suddenly says. "I know it's on extremely short notice, but…could you help me study for the quiz we've got on this?"

I blink at her again. "You're...in the same class as I am?"

"You never noticed."

I shake my head, "S-sorry..."

It's her turn to sigh, now, "Look...I know we didn't really start off on the right foot. I've seen your scores. You do really well at quizzes...and I'm dumber than a bag of hammers. I really want to do better in schoolwork, but it's hard for me. Please...throughout the week, can you help me?"

"No."

She blinks. "N-no?"

"You read the books incrementally. Day by day. You read the lessons at your own pace. Doing problems and exercises along the way. If you get them wrong, you go back to the lessons and try again till you get it right. It's simple. I don't see how I can help you out here."

"I've tried," she grunts. "Believe me, I've tried that. I've tried reviewing on my own time. I really do my best to study and make stuff work, but it never pans out. I'm just not good at it. Please. I'm begging you."

"I don't tutor people. It gets in the way."

"You really can't help me...?" she asks. There's a desperation in her eyes now, something that I feel pained to see, but I press on.

"People can help themselves."

"I've tried to help myself, and it doesn't work," she says.

"Try harder," I say as I close the door, right in her face.

And then she walks away. Turning her back to me, to the car. The red scarf flutters in the wind as she walks down the street, and she disappears as she turns around the corner of the school and as Kurogawa drives the car in the opposite direction.

.

.

.

* * *

**11 / 8 / 2014**

I am thinking about quizzes. I am thinking about homework. I am thinking about a great many things, all of which involve school. I am walking the thirty-minute long walk to Kishibaru and the sky is still grey and the air is still cold. My hands are gloved and I am wearing a scarf with a red- and-black flannel pattern. Despite this, I can still see my breath turn to clouds every time I open my mouth.

Every now and again my thoughts drift to a girl with a red scarf and I turn annoyed.

The first person to talk to me in years, talks to me as though we've known each other for such a long time. Perhaps she just acts how normal girls this day and age act, and I'm just some socially awkward fool that knows no better.

Time passes, however, and I am getting closer to the school. The familiar feeling of just another ordinary day is coming upon me again, and so for a moment I feel almost relaxed with myself. But then I hear her call out my name, "Hikawa!"

I'm walking at a faster rate now because I don't want to speak to her and I don't want to be pestered about requests to tutor her on plants, but before I can walk any further she manages to rush forward and cut me off.

Hoped not to see her again. Hoped not to speak to her again. She doesn't need me to tutor her and I don't need someone like her butting into my life.

"Dude, I called out your name," she says, more than a little agitated at my refusal to even acknowledge her presence.

"You don't need me to help you study," I say to her, hoping getting straight to the point will drive her away faster.

"I can barely afford tuition," she replies quickly, her brows furrowing and her breaths hitched. "Hiring an actual tutor will suck out what little cash I've got left for savings. I'm begging you."

"I don't want to help you," I say to her.

"I know you said that! But you also said that it gets in the way of your schedule! I've done my research; you don't have any clubs, you don't hang out with anybody at lunch—even during class, you don't say a thing unless the teacher makes you recite something. And you always get the questions right, you always get a hundred or higher because of bonuses—"

"I'm not the only one in the class with good grades."

"But you're the only one who gets everything right in every exam."

Ambitious girl. That, I can admire. But ambition only goes so far.

"The only reason I do any good in my exams is because my father taught me how to properly study from a very young age. I'm not so sure, even with my help, if you'll be able to reach that level by next week."

"Well, there's no harm in trying," she insists. "Besides, I helped you out with your books yesterday—"

"—after kicking them out of my hands."

"—oh come on, I legitimately helped you get them to your Dad in the end!"

"You chose to help me out. I never asked for your help, and even insisted you leave me alone."

But at my cruelty and unkindness, she does not scold me. All that happens is her shoulders lower and she looks utterly deflated.

"Is there nothing I can say to get you to help me?"

Expected her to be angry with me, expected her to lash out and call me the names I know and have heard people call me behind my back.

But she is just demoralized. Anger, I'm used to. Despondence, not exactly. Probably will have to get used to that, if I'm ever gonna help with the family business. But at the moment I just don't...feel right.

I just have to ask, "Why do you want to get a perfect score, even? Most people are pleased with a passing grade. If you want to get a scholarship, then...," she gives an uncomfortable expression as she averts her gaze, pursing her lips and scrunching up her nose. "Unless...you want something more than a scholarship?"

She looks at me.

Her hair is still messy, but I can see her face and her eyes clearly. Her mouth is still. Her eyes are wide, and she is frowning not as a show of anger, but as a plea. Her green eyes almost seem to burn with something I can't quite describe and for just a second she looks colorful and bright and alive.

Her black hair is drifting over her eyes and her nose and her freckles and it's all messy, like she didn't bother to comb it before leaving for school. I see the white clouds come from her mouth as she struggles to come up with words to say as her hands drift over her head, fixing her hair.

She is still wearing that blood-red scarf she wore the day before.

She's not saying anything, but she is straightening her back and she is looking at me the way no girl has ever looked at me before, looking at me the way old-fashioned types would deem unbecoming of a woman. I, on the other hand, can't help but find myself enraptured by the green of her eyes— and all at once I can't help but give in.

"I want more than a scholarship. I want more than a happy life," she responds, the conviction in her voice enough to make me step back. Her eyes drift downward as she sinks her head lower into her scarf. "I want a lot of things."

She doesn't say that in a proud way. She doesn't say that in a happy way. She's just being witheringly honest.

"Let's talk at lunch," is all I say to her. "Where would you like to meet up?"

She blinks, stunned for a second. Her shoulders jolt as she stammers out some noises before coming out with, "—i-is the rooftop okay?"

Not the cafeteria or even the bleachers? Never really gone up there myself, but it can't hurt. "Sure."

That is the last thing I say to her before I head into the school grounds. I don't notice her keeping her eyes on the back of my head as I make my way inside.

* * *

Kana Kohaku. Transferred to Kishibaru last year, having come all the way from Nagoya. Not terribly social. Not terribly popular. Heard a thing or two about her, some unpleasant things; rumors that will be brought up later in conversation. Heard stuff about how she works at a burger joint as a part-time job and have even heard reports of her reportedly being rather...promiscuous when it comes to older men.

Word about her had spread 'round my class so quickly upon her arrival that it's almost worthless to even bring her up anymore, but people still do because she's always been the enigma nobody really cares much to really solve.

People say she does stuff like sleep around, go to parties, but I doubt anybody's seen her actually do it. People say she lives in luxury with her parents in some rich condo, but I doubt anyone's made an effort to go visit her.

She was not the first person to have ever come to me and ask for help regarding grades. There have been others, even from other classes. I've shot them all down and I've told them the same thing I told her. They can do it themselves. They hardly need someone like me. All they need is the will to power on. To actually sit down and study like they should.

She'll only ask for my help again when she'll need me. She'll only prove detrimental to my own efforts to study. I'll surely be awkward. Probably going to be of no use to her at all.

But I can't really ignore the look she gave me just hours before.

So when the morning classes end and lunchtime hits and everybody except me and her leaves the classroom, she and I both get up off our seats. I nod at her and she nods at me, and we both make our way up the long steps up — all the way to the rooftop of Kishibaru.

The walk is silent and I have my hands in my pockets while she is keeping hers behind her back. She isn't looking at me and her face is buried deep within her scarf. I briefly wonder why of all times now she's acting so nervous, when yesterday she seemed all-too keen to kick my books out of my hands for fun.

When we get to the roof, the air feels so much colder than it has any right to be, but she and I couldn't care less at this point. She makes her way to the railings, curling her hand upon the steel and keeping her back to me. The silence grows and grows to the point where it's palpable and then she suddenly turns to me after taking in an unnecessarily big breath.

"You...don't pay attention to rumors, right?" she asks.

I blink at her, "I don't try to concern myself with them."

She looks at me for a few seconds before turning her head away. She is now looking at the cityscape, looking at the different buildings and how they cloister together, stretching to the grey horizon as snow falls all over the world. She then says, "So you haven't heard of what people say about me. About how easy I am, with the guys."

I blink at her once again, scratching the back of my head. "I may have heard a thing or two about that, actually."

She looks at me again and her eyes are like blunt daggers.

I've heard things about a girl with green eyes and a red scarf. Nasty things that would be whispered by both boys and girls, things that shouldn't ever be said about anyone. Questions about panty colors, about how many STDs she must have, about how many must have shared her bed, about black lace and so on and so forth.

Only thing I never really got was a name. "Should that matter?"

She lowers her daggers and goes back to averting her gaze, heaving out a quick breath and saying, "It could. They rumors are...not entirely inaccurate..."

"I see," I say.

Truthfully, I don't care much if she is as easy as the rumors say she is. People do as people please and none of their business should be mine. But for the briefest moment I wonder what this has to do with studying to the point of perfection until my brain cells kick in.

"What did you mean when you said you wanted more than a scholarship?"

"I've tried to turn myself around, really I have," she says. "But my reputation's already preceded me, it seems. Even you caught wind of the rumors...," she laughs joylessly, each ha sounding like she's dying more inside. But she manages to come outright with, "I wanna get a good letter of recommendation, so I can get a scholarship to Tokyo U."

My ears twitch, "Lofty goal. But...specifically, Tokyo U?"

"I'm willing to take on any college, if they'll have me. But for now, Tokyo U is the best option. It's closest to home; plus it has a real good medical division."

My eyes widen at her, "You want to become a doctor."

She nods, knowing how little I can believe it. She then stays silent for a time and lets the question hang in the air until she comes out with, "Can't be one with grades as bad as mine. If they keep on being as bad as they are, I won't make it past entrance exams, let alone get a scholarship grant. A letter of recommendation'll be hard to come by with my reputation...so I've no choice but to try and get one on my own merits. And by my own merits, I mean..."

She turns to me.

My shoulders deflate.

"Since when did you really start trying to study?" I ask her.

She hangs her head low. "Since the beginning of the year."

"And nobody's been able to help you at all?"

She laughs that half-laugh of hers before saying, "The only people who talk to me nicely are guys. Though they don't always say nice things, either...girls like to gossip a lot until the person they're gossiping about actually walks over to them. Then they try making a fool out of her, or they make a fool out of themselves."

"And that brings you to me."

"Yes." She removes her hands from the railing and she looks at me intently with that look she had on earlier this morning, that look I will never be able to forget. But instead of maintaining this look, she suddenly gets on her knees and plants herself on all fours. She arranges herself in a bowing position that most men would abhor due to how much it looks like grovelling, but she doesn't care because at this point she is grovelling and is desperate enough and lacks that much pride.

"I'm sorry for causing you trouble, Kazuya Hikawa. But please. Can you help me study for all my exams and quizzes until college entrance exams?"

She's not telling me everything. I know she isn't. No one would lower themselves to this degree out of just any regular kind of desperation. What could she be hiding? Why would she be hiding it? All signs pointed to something to do with her reputation. Been here for a year or so. Tendency to be rather liberal with her endeavors has been affirmed. Nobody talks about her, but her lifestyle is apparent enough to lend itself to some unsavory rumors. Her desperation is palpable and her will is all shrivelled up and the idea that there has to be something else at play here is too big to ignore, so I ask:

"Do you have a child?"

She tears herself up from the ground and looks at me as though I am her worst fears come to life. She does not say anything, grasping at syllables and stammering out things and noises and the noises she makes are all the answers I need.

But still, she manages to come out with a whimpering, "Nobody can know."

That's a matter of course.

In the past fifty years, the rate of children born out of wedlock has hardly changed. Single mothers in this country often face tremendous amounts of stigmatization for having kids. Family image holds a lot of prestige; having or being a bastard child is more often than not considered a flaw in and of itself.

Hell, under the _koseki_ family registration system, discrimination against illegitimate children in family law situations was completely legal until just a few years back.

I soften my voice as I ask her, "How old?"

"Turned two last February," is all she says after a period of silence.

I turn back to her in shock, "You had him when you were fourteen?"

"Fifteen," she corrects. "Was held back for a year when I got her...," she gets up from off the ground. "My parents, thank God, were willing to take care of her with me after her dad jumped ship. But they can't do all the work forever. I need to pick up the pace."

"And...nobody in the school knows this?"

She crosses her arms as she states, "Principal knows. Mom told him. He's sympathetic, not that his sympathy matters much. Everyone else doesn't know, and you'd better not say a thing—"

"I won't. Where'd they get the idea that you're...easy with the guys?"

She sighs, "Girls here? Not too different from the girls back in Nagoya. You get on their nerves once and they decide to hound you whenever they don't have anything better to do. I'm pretty much a prostitute now, according to what they say. "

"How'd _they_ not tell anyone here about your kid?"

" _They_ didn't know, either; dropped out before anybody caught wind."

"I see. So this guy..."

"Seemed nice," she interrupts. "Seemed. Moment I had our kid, I never heard from him again. Never even saw him again. Not that I'd want to."

"The Principal had to have given you benefits of some kind."

"He did. That's how bad my finances are, too. And no, I won't ask you to give me money, if that's what you're thinking."

"Wouldn't even do it if you asked," I lean against the rails of the roof. "Funny. If you started with the kid, I'd have accepted sooner."

She blinks. "You don't think I'm lying."

"No. I really don't."

"I could be lying. For all you know, my kid doesn't even exist. Thought you'd think I was lying, that's why I didn't say anything about it —"

"I don't think you are."

"Why?"

I tilt my head and shrug. "Gotta feeling."

She looks at me, momentarily stunned, before chuckling out in a small fit of laughter. And when she laughs this time, it's not a half-laugh.

She is not lying when she says she has a child. And she is not lying when she says she needs help. So I will help her. At the very least, for now. I will help her till she will be able to stand on her feet and carry herself and her family all the way to whatever paradise she longs for in Tokyo U.

So I ask her, "What's her name?"

And as the chuckling dies down, she wipes her eye; then she smiles again, a beautiful smile that's as big as the whole wide world, and she says, "Masako."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was once a 12,000 word prologue for my fanfic/novelization of _Persona 5_. But I deleted the original story and I'm planning to do some refurbishing. Played through _P5_ all those years ago, and thought it was amazing. Though what was even more amazing was that the headcanon I'd planned for my protagonist actually really gelled with the story.
> 
> However, I recognized that some parts could've been better written, especially considering how rushed the original prologue had been. I also wanted to change up some sequences and dropped a whole 'nother fic that was a side-story to this that I thought would serve a purpose but would only make things much longer than they'd have any right to be.
> 
> So I remade the fic! And I managed to get to 160,000+ words!
> 
> And then _Royal_ happened. New characters were introduced. Things I had planned, all going to nothing. Because Royal had planned out almost _exactly_ what I wanted to do, to the letter. But it still was a little disappointing, especially when it came to ONE, very specific character.
> 
> _So I remade it again!_
> 
> Then I didn't like how I did the remake.
> 
> So third time's the charm, eh?
> 
> **UNTIL NOT EVEN THAT WAS POSSIBLE-**
> 
> Okay. Let me explain.
> 
> Third one? Best written rendition thus far. BUT. Tried to do a whole thing with the main character and his backstory, and his familial relations. Made him the son the protag of Persona 1, because they look similar and I though it'd be interesting to do that kinda story. THEN I realized I'd probably have to include the Nanjo Group in all this and see where every other character in the P1-P2 series fit in the equation, and it just didn't work right. Wanted this story to be a little more contained to the Phantom Thieves-wanted to bring up the other Persona games as LITTLE as possible, even 3 or 4.
> 
> Plus, considering what I have planned later in the story, the personality I gave the MC's father just straight-up didn't work. It would've meshed poorly with later events down on the line.
> 
> So...let's just say I compromised.
> 
> Our MC's name? Hikawa Kazuya.
> 
> But be warned: this is gonna be a straight-up horror story. 
> 
> Palace Rulers are gonna be worse. This story will contain heaps of graphic violence, blood, and gore. Sometimes the good guys won't win, and if/when they do they likely won't be happy about it. Way more moral ambiguity and sadistic choices, and no matter how hard the Thieves try, some people ain't gonna be leaving alive. And it certainly won't help that my version of Joker's not exactly the most upstanding guy on the planet.


	2. Everything I Could Have Ever Wanted

**11 / 9 / 2014**

It is Saturday and I have entered a girl's room for the very first time.

Kana's room is small. We've come here on a Saturday, and it's been thirty minutes since we've left Kishibaru. We've agreed to spend the evening and tomorrow afternoon studying for what is to come. But we haven't started yet because Kana's making tea and even though I told her not to, she insisted.

So I am waiting alone in her room and I am sitting on the ground with my legs crossed. My bag is to my left and there is a _kotatsu_ in front of me; Kana's bag and books having been arranged across from me, on the other side of the small table. The room is a thick color of white and there's another table against the wall adjacent to the shoji screen, and on the other table there is a small TV and a cable box at the foot of said TV.

There is a crib, and it is next to me.

There are no sounds coming from inside the crib. The crib itself creaks and it groans as wood does, but whatever is inside the crib doesn't make a sound, and is obscured by padding on all sides.

I don't know why I'm standing up. I don't know why I'm peering over the crib. But as I see Masako...for a very brief moment, I feel the desperation Kana must have felt in begging me to help her study. For a very brief moment, I regret not accepting her request sooner.

Then I hear someone enter the room, and I turn to see Kana setting down a tray with two small cups of tea on the _kotatsu_. She then slowly walks over to me and, with me, looks over the sleeping Masako in her crib. Both of us are quiet, both of us are still, and both of us nearly begin to forget why we came here in the first place. It is Kana who perks up, however, and taps me on the shoulder. I nod at her, and then we both set ourselves down at the table.

"She gets her looks from her mom," Kana then says with a smirk, her voice marginally louder than a whisper.

I get my books from my bag and ask, "Her dad leave for any particular reason, or...?"

"Didn't wanna shoulder the responsibility, is all. He wanted an abortion, I didn't," she shrugs. "Arguments happened, then he left the picture. Dunno what's become of him since then."

"You have any part-time jobs?" I ask, setting the books on the table.

"Been working as a cashier at Big Bang Burger for the past three months. The pay is good, plus I'm on the cusp of getting a promotion because I work long hours," she says with more than a little pride.

I raise my brow, "So who takes care of Masako while you're out?"

"Mom's usually out working. But she's been job hunting recently, so she has more time than before. We'd hire babysitters. They tend to do a way better job at it than I ever could. But they come and go."

"'Bout your father?"

She turns, smirking, "Like mother like daughter."

Damn. "He...?"

"Jumped ship from _my_ mom. She raised me basically by her lonesome." She doesn't even look at me as she says that. So I move on.

"So where is your mother? She doesn't seem to be around at the moment..."

Kana just casually says, "She's buying medicine."

I blink at her, "Medicine?"

"Masako's not the strongest girl in the world," she says, somewhat numbly.

After a bit of a silence, I ask, "Gets sick often?"

She nods, "She was born a few weeks before she should've been. We're lucky she's developed as much as she has now, but still...her immune system's got a ways to go." But then she shakes her head and assures me, "Never mind, that shouldn't matter right now. What're we doing? We should be studying," and then she breaks out some small half-chuckles.

"Okay. So. Quiz about the biology of plants. Now. What do you call what happens when green plants use sunlight to create food from from carbon dioxide and water?"

"Photosynthesis," she says almost immediately, her eyes having become dead serious.

"Good. What's the etymology of the term _photosynthesis_?"

"No clue," she says, her mouth curling into another smirk.

I blink at her and ask, "How many times were you absent from the class?"

"...a lot," she says meekly. "Weeks at a time..."

"You wondered why I didn't recognize you as one of our classmates," I say to her, arms crossing.

"Do you know anybody in our class, even?" she says, palms facing the ceiling. "You don't even talk to anyone, from what I know of you. I have a _kid_ , at least I have an excuse."

"I don't talk to people because talking to people stops me from doing other things," I say defensively.

"Like what? _Studying_?" she scoffs.

"Pretty much, yeah," I smirk at her, knowing how disappointing an answer that must be. "I study every day. If I don't keep my mind sharp, then it'll all turn to mush."

She props her chin on her hand and says, "Can't hurt to take a break every once in a while."

I raise my head at her and say in defiance, "I take breaks."

"What do you do _then_? _Read_?"

I don't say anything. I am unable to. For a brief moment, I feel embarrassment.

"You must be joking," she laughs, but her tone turns genuinely inquisitive. "What do you read, though?"

"Mostly old books. _Lord_ _of_ _the_ _Rings_ , _Watchmen_ , some manga here and there," I tell her, enthused by the idea that someone is interested in what I read in my spare time.

"You have any favorites, though?" she asks, not knowing the significance of such a question.

I remember yellow scarves, asteroids with coded names, different planets full of different people, all reflections of the mundanity of adulthood. I think of pilots and deserts and snakes, and roses kept in glass cases. Foxes roaming across fields and speaking of essential things. It gets to the point where I tell her almost immediately, " _The_ _Little_ _Prince_."

She blinks, somewhat stunned by how quickly I was able to say that, and she says, "Heard it's a good book. Never got to reading it, myself."

"If you want a bedtime story for Masako that'll last, you read her that book," I urge her. "I assure you, she'll remember it for the rest of her life."

"That good, huh...?" she asks. "Perhaps you could lend me a copy, then. Might actually get to reading it when I've got some time on my hands."

"Perhaps when the next quiz hits," I say to her. But she appears to have had something else in mind.

She blinks, her hand still propping up her chin, "We could just...hang out around lunchtime, you know. You could lend me the book and we could just talk and stuff."

"I head to the library around lunchtime. I read. I study. The works."

"That's the reason you just didn't wanna help me at first? Do you really even _want_ to study? What about it makes you enjoy it so much? It all just seems so routine."

"I'm good at it, so I might as well take my time with it. Ever since I was a kid. Dad's been prepping me since elementary. Don't really have a reason to refuse."

"Maybe you could give breaking pattern a try every now and again?" she asks, looking genuinely frustrated.

"If I'm fine where I am, why should I try doing something more?"

So she blinks and she asks the most obvious question: "So you're just helping me 'cause of Masako?"

I just turn to the crib, and then turn back to her. I needn't say anything. And both she and I stay silent for the longest time. But then we hear some noises coming from beyond the room, like thumping. We hear the sound grow louder and faster the closer it comes to the room. Kana seems used to this noise and all she does is peer over the crib, checking on Masako as the door opens.

There is an older woman with black eyes and hair coming into the room. She is wearing a black overcoat that stretches down to her shins and she is wearing black heels and stockings. She lets out a tired breath and a smile, lifting up a plastic bag as Kana turns to her. But then the woman takes notice of me and asks, "Friend of yours?"

She just blinks, "Sort of."

The older woman eyes me before letting out a smirk and lowering the plastic bag to the floor. She goes to me and stares, sizing me up like she's wondering if I'm worthy of something. She smiles, "So you're Kazuya Hikawa?"

Kana sharply turns as I manage, "Yes...Kana has spoken of me?"

"Already on a first-name basis?" the woman says, smiling widely now, before turning to Kana. "Well? Aren't you going to introduce me to him?"

Kana blushes a little, stepping forward and rubbing the back of her head. "She's my mom," she tells me, more than a little shyly.

"And we have a _lot_ of things to discuss, young man," she says, turning again to Kana. "I've bought some groceries! We can talk in Kana's room. I'll prepare the food," she then turns to me, "there's just so much I have to know about you."

Kana's stammering now, "M-Mom, seriously, it's okay—"

"No, nonsense! He's a guest here! I'd feel guilty if I didn't spend some time getting to know him!" Kana's mother says, already heading down the steps.

"Mom, wait!" Kana pleads, rushing out to the door and trying out one last ditch effort to get her mother to stop.

But of course, she doesn't listen, and she's already in the living room by the time she says, "Come along, you two! I think there's some tea in the cupboard..."

Kana looks at me like she's wondering what I'm about to say to that, as though asking what she herself should do as well. But all I do is shrug and move back to my seat, crossing my legs and sitting down.

I've already come this far, anyway. Why not?

* * *

It worries me, how Kana's mother can freely and rather loudly talk even around a sleeping child, but the look in Kana's eyes seem to say that she's done this many times before; perhaps Masako's just a heavy sleeper.

Kana's mother talks and asks and wonders aloud, wonders about me. Every time she speaks she practically vomits out words, able to churn out paragraphs in the span of a second. All the while Kana shifts uncomfortably in her seat, blushing madly and refusing to look at either of us.

"So, how did you and my daughter meet? She's told me things about 'getting the smartest guy in class' to help her..."

"She asked me to help her study for our next quiz. It's on the biology of plants," I respond, trying to not feel too flattered.

"It must have been puzzling for you," she chuckles, "having someone approach you out of nowhere and request you help them with their studies."

I turn to Kana, smirking a bit, "It wasn't as straightforward as you think..."

She blushes deeply and sinks her face into her scarf.

Kana's mother then eyes me carefully. Suddenly she blurts out, "Are you rich?"

"Oh my _God_ , Mom-"

"Oh hush, he's fine," she shrugs, before addressing me. "You carry yourself like you are. Very composed. A little stoic. You even button up your uniform all the way. You're also quite easy on the eyes."

Even I have to let out a little chuckle at that last remark, "It's fine. My father works with Kei Nanjo. They were friends when they were in high school."

" _Friends_ with Kei Nanjo?" her mother repeats.

"They'd gotten very close. He's an advisor of sorts to him, now."

Her mother raises her brow. "Your father's a very lucky man, then."

I'd say he's more hardworking, than lucky. But, "He's also very social. When I was little, he'd bring me to some of his meetings; I'd watch him ease the tension with a few words and then the meeting would go incredibly smoothly from there on. I'll have to work on _that_ , I suppose..."

She smiles widely, "All things considered, your manners are fine. And you're very eloquent. Your father taught you well in that respect."

I smile back, a smaller smile, "Dad doesn't stay at home a lot; very busy with work. Mom filled in the gaps where Dad couldn't; helped me understand things I didn't in school, reprimanded me whenever I got into trouble. Taught me manners where there were none."

"Your parents sound like wonderful people."

I chuckle a little. "They're fine."

Kana's mother doesn't move. She doesn't say anything, just looking at me intently, like something about me has rung alarms in her head.

"Kana, when did you tell him about Masako?" she suddenly asks her daughter, who begins stammering and stuttering and trying to regain herself in time to say something.

"I-I tried to keep it secret till I couldn't afford it, but he figured it out...," she manages.

"What, did you guess?" Kana's mother asks me.

"She asked me to help her study, even bowed," I say, heedless of Kana's embarrassment. "Wondered why she would go that far, and I began to ask questions. One thing led to another."

She pauses for a moment. Then claps, "Kana, please make some cup noodles for yourself and him."

Kana stutters, "Wh-what—Mom, I just—"

"I would like to speak to him privately," Kana's mother says. "He's a very interesting boy. I know I've been keeping you from your studies, but there's something very important I'd like to tell him. I'll be gone by the time you get back."

"Mom, I just—"

"Kana," her mother says sternly, still somehow managing to pull off an austere tone with an earnest smile. "Please."

Kana shirks back and nods timidly, getting up from the _kotatsu_ and heading on downstairs. And I am stuck in the room with Kana's mother, who is standing up and moving over to the crib.

"Look at her," she says, peering in. I follow her gaze and I look.

I see a little creature with a round head, wearing a pink onesie. She is sleeping and she is curled up into herself, she doesn't notice me and it's good. It's good she doesn't notice me, she'd cry for her mother because there's a stranger looking at her. As she sleeps, she makes her mewling noises and my ears begin to hear them. They are soft and they are harmless and innocent and all those things people can't afford to be for very long in life.

When I see her...as though I am her father, I feel something instinctive, protective. Like who is in the crib is too innocent and pure to be destroyed by the horrors of the world and I need to defend her from it at all costs. It is strange and it is unsettling and I am afraid for both her and myself.

"She's beautiful," Kana's mother continues. "Her father was thought otherwise, however." I turn to her, and she keeps talking all the while. "What did you hear about my daughter?"

I turn back to the crib and I mutter, "Rumors."

She eyes me and I dare not look back at her, the faint blurs of her in my peripheral vision chilling me all on their own. "What kind of rumors?"

I decide to be honest. "The bad kind."

Kana's mother gives me the side-eye. Lets the back of her fingers trail across the baby's cheek; so light that Masako hardly stirs. "Do you understand what you're getting yourself into?"

"I'm not intending to date her," I tell her, finding it in myself to finally face her again. "I'm studying with her, so that she'd be able to better help her child."

"You'd better keep your word on that," she says sadly, her fingers stroking the pink fabric of Masako's onesie. "The rumors started because she went after a boy the other girls had had their eyes on. The rumors got worse when he left her behind. For a few days, she'd just scream in the night. Partly out of anger, mostly because she hated herself that much. Then after those few days, she stopped. Since then, she hasn't cried once. The way she asked me for help...I couldn't say no."

So I continue to look at Masako's sleeping face. I continue to hear her mewl and murmur to herself, shuffling in her bed. I begin to think about if she needs a blanket, a bottle of milk, maybe even a rattle. I think of books I could read to her before bedtime and I wonder how she'll think of snakes eating elephants and _perhaps she'll become an artist or a_ _pilot_ —

—and at this point I wonder why I'm thinking like it's suddenly my job to keep her safe no matter the cost.

I decide to tell Kana's mother the whole truth when she gives me a very strong look.

"I recalled hearing about her in passing mention from my classmates. Things that sounded pretty...skeevy. So when she bowed to me, I had to know just what had been driving her to do such a thing. First thing that came off the top of my head was...," then I gesture to the little girl in the crib.

"When she told me she wanted to become a doctor," Kana's mother says, "I couldn't help but not want to support her every step of the way. As her mother and Masako's grandmother, I decided to dedicate what's left of my life to helping her achieve her dream. So I want to make this very clear."

She turns to me, I turn to her. Our expressions are passive, but we can feel how heavy the air between us is, and the sensation of my eyes locking with hers sent a thousand weights down my spine.

Kana's mother says, "She has little to no friends. Little to no time to enjoy herself. You can be her friend, or you can be her boyfriend. Whatever you wish. But if you do anything to harm her or my granddaughter, I'll hound you till you die."

I nod.

But as I turn back to the crib, as I see how fragile Masako is and I begin to fully understand the weight of my decisions, Kana enters the room. Carrying a tray, on it three cup noodles.

"I told you to make one for yourself and for him," Kana's mother says, somewhat amused.

Kana says, "Thought you'd like one...," breathing resignedly.

"Alright. Waste not, want not."

Kana's mother takes the middle cup of noodles before exiting the room, eyeing both of us before whispering something into Kana's ear. Kana nearly drops the tray as her face reddens like a tomato and she stares at her mother like the woman's transformed into a demon right before her eyes.

"Good luck with your studies," Kana's mother says, winking to me and all at once I feel something like discomfort crawling in my guts.

* * *

Kana and I just slurp away at our cup noodles, waiting for the other person to say something about what just happened and I'm too shy and she's too embarrassed and Masako is still asleep and we don't have much time left before evening hits and I have to head home because of my curfew.

So I start the conversation. "Your mother's a nice lady."

In the worst possible way. Kazuya you stupid moron foolish knave your mother taught you better than this—

"I'm sorry," Kana says, refusing to look at me. "I didn't think she'd be back so soon..."

"It's fine," I tell her, but like her mother, she doesn't seem to want to listen.

"I-I know, you don't like people, I'm sorry for the interruptions, I'm sorry for all these delays, I'm just—"

"It's okay, really, I—"

"—a-and I'm sorry that the conversation got to your dad and—"

And we just catch each other's statements and we are both caught on another deadlock. But I only allow this new silence to last a mere few seconds. "Your mother's a nice lady. We spoke for a bit while you were gone."

She winces, "What'd she say...?"

I rub the back of my head. "I'd say we've come to an understanding of sorts."

She purses her lips.

"...sorry if we got into some uncomfortable areas...we should've been studying," she says dejectedly, glaring passive-aggressively into her plastic bowl.

"We haven't even gotten into biology much," I chuckle, actually amused at how much time's been half-wasted. "Wonder how math and history are gonna go..."

"Wait, what?"

"Next _next_ week, we've got a long exam on math and a thirty-item quiz on history, taking place on Monday and Wednesday respectively."

Kana keels over and plants her head on the desk, groaning out a noise that can only be replicated by the most anguished and bereaved of lost souls.

"Meaning I'll have to come again tomorrow," I say.

Kana pauses. Shuffling her head up, she stares at me. "You're still willing to help me."

"Yes."

She blinks. "Why?"

I shrug. "I like your place. It's very...comfortable."

Kana's eyes are stern. She frowns. "Why _do_ you want to help me? Really?"

"What do you mean?"

She just shakes her head. "Is it because of Masako, or you just genuinely want to help?"

"I explain plainly, "My mother died a few years ago."

Kana's eyes widen.

"Oh," is all she can say.

"She was...frail, when she was younger. Would get sick a lot, had to take a lot of visits to the hospital. For a long time it seemed she wouldn't get sick anymore at all. But cancer doesn't discriminate. Mom raised me while Dad was out. Had to deal with me as a toddler. If you think I'm insufferable now, think about how it was _then_."

"I'm…sorry to hear that."

"A few days before she died, she told me something very strange."

Kana narrows her eyes, "What'd she say...?"

"I'll never forget it...," I chuckle a little, slurping down a few more noodles, _"Your_ _father_ _and_ _I_ _had you months before we were_ _married._ "

Kana can't say a word.

"I sat by her side, holding her hand as she laid in that hospital bed. I asked her why her parents weren't showing up with me, why it was only ever I or Dad who'd care enough to check up on her. And she looked like she couldn't bear to give me an answer, but eventually she did. I'm a bastard. And when she told me that, I hated myself, more than I hated my relatives, more than I hated anyone or anything else in the world. But she also said, _You_ _are_ _everything_ _I_ _could have_ _ever_ _wanted_ _my_ _son_ _to_ _be._ And after that...I loved her more than I hated myself."

Kana is silent for a long time.

She keeps her eyes to the ground. Ashamed.

I tell her warmly, "Let's just say I have a soft spot for people in her situation. I'll come back here tomorrow. I'll help you study."

She blinks again, lifts her head up to face me. "I...thought you'd have just decided to leave..."

"I'm asocial, not _anti_ -social."

She blinks a third time. Her shoulders deflate and she keels over once more, planting her head back down on the table. She then rises up and smiles, eyes a little teary, "Thank you."

I tell her "You're welcome," before resuming with my cup.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize."

.

.

.

* * *

**11 / 18 / 2014**

I am waiting for her outside of the school gates and I wonder if she'll still wear that red scarf of hers even as the season shifts. I am waiting for her because we've got another study session ahead of us. History class. Long exam. Coverage is from Japan's early years to World War II.

Reviewing silently while standing alone in the melting snow is getting boring, because there are just so many times I can repeat scrolls of information about Fat Men, Little Boys, Hiroshimas and Nagasakis, and old anime based on the subject.

When she comes finally, she is out of breath and she is bent over. She is still wearing her red scarf even though it's not nearly as cold anymore. She wipes strands of hair from her face as she exhales one last time and declares, "S-sorry...if I...kept you...waiting..."

"Where were you? Didn't see you in class at all."

"Was...working...at...Big Bang...almost forgot we...had...to study...," she says as she struggles to form words.

I blink at her. Finding it strange how unseasonably warm I become upon seeing the black strands flowing over her freckles."Let's go. We've got history to deal with."

"Good," she breathes. "My best subject."

"You just barely passed the last quiz."

" _That_ was because you didn't tell me about it," she grunts, grinning.

"You were in class once Yamaguchi-sensei gave the quiz date."

She gesticulates kind of wildly as she bites back, "I was sleeping! Why'd you not wake me up, anyway?"

"Would it really matter if I did?"

"...gotta point there."

I then nod and make a welcoming gesture, allowing her to come to my side. She is still glaring at me, though she doesn't mean it, and we both take the long walk all the way to her place.

Very few times would we ever meet up in any fashion during school hours, and whenever we would we would talk about nothing at all. Just small talk that we'd both forget about immediately as the conversation would end. But when we would walk to her place, we'd always talk for hours before finding ourselves surprised at how quickly we seem to arrive at her place.

When we arrive this time, however, we continue our conversation even as we make strides to her room, where we spot Masako being tended to by her grandmother. Kana's mom nods at us and smiles as she bows and leaves the room, Kana and I taking our seats soon after. We continue talking as we unload our bags and get our books out along with stuff like pencils, erasers, pens, and correction tape and I grow mildly afraid that we won't be able to study at the rate our conversation is going.

Then we hear a shuffling noise. We turn our heads to the crib, where a black shape quickly pulls itself down. Kana and I blink before turning back to each other. Just as Kana faces me, the black shape rises again and I see it in my peripherals. Turn again. Shape bunkers down.

Kana chuckles as I raise my brow.

She holds her finger to her mouth as she smiles and I breathe in response. We both turn to the crib and keep our eyes on it for as long as we can. Soon enough, we see the head of a little girl pop up from inside the crib. Her small fingers are grasping the wooden frame and she is staring at us with large brown eyes. She blinks at us, and we blink back at her. She makes a little _Mmnnn_ sound before retreating back into the crib.

Kana smiles at me, getting up from the _kotatsu_ and walking over to her daughter.

She says a few things to the innocent soul in the crib and after a few seconds, she returns to the _kotatsu_ with a little girl in a onesie in her arms. She lowers Masako, having her sit in her lap as she asks me, "Is it okay with you if Masako stays here? She's quiet and not very active, so she won't do much."

I nodded simply, "If her presence helps you study harder, then by all means."

She smiles again, "Thank you."

"Now then...," I say, bringing out an exorbitantly large history book _thrice_ the size of the ones assigned to us at school, _slamming_ it onto the _kotatsu_. "Let us begin."

Masako just tilts her head as Kana asks, "This isn't the book Yamaguchi-sensei assigned...

"This is the book I've used to get hundreds in _every_ history exam I've had thus far. Because Yamaguchi likes to make us write essays, it's only logical we take cues from an essay-laden book. I only pull this one out in extreme measures, though."

She scoffs, "Well. I guess I _am_ an extreme measure...you sure this'll help us out better than just reading the normal book?"

"Why did the _blitzkrieg_ tactic fail?" I ask her.

"What?"

"Why'd _blitzkrieg_ fail for the Germans, after it was done successfully in the early stages of Wehrmacht's invasion upon the Soviet Union?"

She smirks as she says, "Because in the end, the Russians adapted while the Germans did not. Hitler was so accustomed to the _blitzkrieg_ that when it was used in Stalingrad and at Kursk against the Russians, it largely caught the army off-guard because there were circumstances that the Germans weren't able to overcome, primarily because a blitz wasn't designed for the urban warfare at Stalingrad and at Kursk the Russians had already made a prepared defense against them." She then nods, half to herself as Masako opens her mouth. "See? I can be smart, too."

"The _blitzkrieg_ _did_ work at first, largely due to multiple advantages the Germans had over the Russians. Stalin had eliminated many capable generals during his Great Purge, leaving Russia's Red Army without a leader against Hitler's troops. Stalin himself was so convinced Hitler would not rebel against him that even though it was plain as day that the Nazis were advancing their efforts, he rejected the notion that Hitler's ambition would be so great. Plus, environmentally speaking, Byelorussia and Ukraine were perfect locations for Germanic war vehicles to traverse across because they largely held flat plains. And we're not even getting into the _actual_ planes of the Germans, which utterly slaughtered Soviet air forces and ground forces."

At that, Kana grabs her own history book and flits the pages over and over again as Masako eyes the sheets of paper passing by right before her large round eyes.

"But Russia eventually struck back. Harsh weather conditions and other factors like a Resistance caused the Russians' forces to decay gradually, the Germans having not planned for an extended campaign. Eventually Russians even adopted the doctrines of the Germans to the point where the former surpassed the latter in terms of resiliency, weaponry, and intel gathering. Stalin also relegated his command to his generals while Hitler decided to be stupid and man his troops' movements himself. In the end, Russia also just had a lot more reserves, so they could withstand a lot of what the Germans had to throw at them."

Kana was just looking at me intently, not even taking a peek at her book anymore. Masako looked up at her from her lap.

"In the end though, you were correct. The Russians adapted. The Germans did not."

Kana stared at the thick history book I'd placed on the table, then back to me. Then back to the book, back to me. Book, me. Her shoulders deflate as she pulls herself backwards and slams her upper body to the floor, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. "Okay. Let's read the book."

"One of the best things about this book," I tell her, "is that there're pictures and sketch renderings of many events listed. So it helps you remember stuff a little better if you take the time to associate a word or a phrase or an entire name with an image or a part of an image that strikes you."

Kana doesn't budge from her spot as she lies helplessly with her back on the floor and her eyes on the ceiling. Masako stares at her, still sitting on her waist. Kana's daughter then turns, shifting her position to face her mother, crawling over up till she's sitting down Kana's stomach. Kana looks at Masako as Masako looms over her. Kana blinks, smiling again, "What...?"

Masako's hand lands hard on Kana's cheek. Though Kana is more amused than anything else. She lifts Masako up as she herself rises from the floor, sitting herself back upright, "Okay, I get the point." Masako sits back in her mother's lap, staring at the both of us curiously as Kana says, "So...you ready to make me feel like an idiot again?"

I smirk, "Always."

"To think you did this sort of thing all alone, back then…"

"What, reading?"

"No. Studying. It's boring as hell, even with people helping you. Didn't you ever get tired of it?"

"Every now and again. Over time, I…guess I got used to it."

"Wasn't there _anything_ you wanted to be when you grew older?"

"Of course I had ideas. Dad tended to kill them before they could take root."

She frowns. "Y'know, considering everything you told me about your Dad, he sounds like a _real_ swell guy…"

"For what it's worth, he doesn't hate me."

"What?"

"For the longest time I thought it was because he hated me and Mom. 'Cause he never seemed _happy_ to be with us. Never brought me in for a hug or anything. Would always speak with Mom like she was his business partner, not his wife. Even all the way until the end. But honestly, I don't think he really hates or loves anyone."

"That should make you more angry than you sound."

"Wasn't _happy_ with that knowledge. But you gotta live with it somehow. Not like there's much I can do 'bout it. He's practically got my whole future lined up."

She narrows her eyes. "Does he…y'know…?"

"No. I don't," I smirk at her.

"It'd just be terrible if he…"

"He's neglectful at best. Never raised a hand against me, and any scoldings I get are at worst a harsh rebuke. Wouldn't say he's abusive, though."

"How would he react if you told him you were helping me, though…?"

"Probably not well," I shrug. "But hey. He thinks I'm off in some public library somewhere. And he doesn't come home often anyway. Won't be a problem."

She still looks supremely uncomfortable.

She should know something stupid to take her mind off this. "I wanted to be a Featherman."

She suddenly perks up and raises her voice, "What?"

"When I was a kid," I chuckled. "Like 8, 9 years old. I immediately thought, _Phoenix Red_."

She's laughing a little now, " _You_ , watching _Neo Featherman_?"

"Long time ago. Memorized the theme song and sang it to myself whenever I'd to study for elementary quizzes. Used the thirty minutes of free time Dad gave me to always watch that show. Hell. I don't even remember the characters' names or whatever kinda story arcs they were trynna go for."

There's something weird in her eyes, in the way she smiles. "Sing me the theme song."

"What?"

"C'mon! Sing us the theme song! Me n' Masako!"

"I can't. Not happening. I don't even remember it anymore."

"You're lying."

"Am not."

"You so _definitely are_!"

Masako's laughing now, 'cause her mom's laughing and I'm letting myself smile.

"I can't. I don't even know what the franchise is up to these days…show's on its like, fifteenth season or something."

"Anything else you wanted to be?" she smiles.

I shake my head, "'Bout you? Any lofty dreams as a kid?"

"Y'know, I…," she blushes and rubs the back of her head, "I thought I could become a dancer."

"Really? What kind?"

"That's the thing. When I was a kid I really didn't have any clue what kinda dances were _there_ —I'd just see singers on TV dancing in music videos and thought they were pretty cool. Y'know. There's something _freeing_ in it, I dunno."

"I think you'd make a great dancer."

"And where's _that_ comin' from? You haven't even seen me bust a move."

"No. But you put your everything into what you wanna accomplish. I can see you being a good dancer."

She pauses for a sec, then chuckles, " _You'd_ make a good Phoenix Red. Shame you're gonna be stuck in some musty cubicle, filling out tax returns all day."

I smirk at her a little. "I also wanted to be a detective."

"A detective?"

"Some point I really, _really_ got into the idea," I shook my head. "Dad put a stop to that. My passions didn't reach him, so I let that thought die like everything else."

"I'd say you're smart enough to be one."

"I'm not _that_ smart," I shake my head. "'Sides, it'd be too stressful."

Her expression is curious. Looks good on her, like always. But curious. "It's strange."

"What is?"

"Didn't quite peg you as the kind to wanna do that stuff."

"What, be a detective?"

"Remember how you were when I first met you? Mr. _I'm-Fine-With-My-Path-In-Life_? Don't really get how you once wanted to be a detective."

I scoff, "Sorry that my ambitions have fallen so far."

"Why'd you wanna be one, though?"

"It's nothing."

"No, I'm serious," she leans in a bit closer. "I wanna know."

"It's stupid."

"I don't think it'd be stupid."

"You don't even know yet."

"Neither do you, so try me."

I shift a hand through my hair. "You sure?"

"C'mon."

"Well…," I tap the history book a little. "I've been…pretty big on history, since I was a kid. In middle school they taught us about wars sometime in September and, y'know, was pretty standard fare. But I got real into it. So I read a lotta stuff."

"Ugh, it's always books with you, huh?"

"Told you this could be boring."

"No, keep going."

"Like, you read about Hitler, right? You read about Stalin. You read about all these horrible people doing such horrible things, and then you realize we're not even that far off from those days."

"I'd like to think we've progressed pretty far, all things considered."

"You think so?"

"Things aren't perfect. Obviously not. But Rome wasn't built in a day. I think we'll get there."

"Get where?"

"I know _utopia_ 's not possible. But maybe we can achieve something close to it?"

"Doubt it."

"Well _someone's_ cynical."

"You read enough of history, you'd be, too."

"I'm pretty sure the world's still got its fair share of assholes, don't get me wrong."

"Not the assholes you should worry about."

"What do you mean?"

"'Good' people. _Those_ are the ones we've all gotta look out for."

"You serious?"

"You don't get the courage to kill millions of people when you think you're wrong to do it. But if you can reframe it in any way to be _good_ , you do. Say those people are evil, or stealing from you, or are standing in the way of progress. _Then_ it's fine. Then you justify it to your people, and soon enough it's fine for them as well. And when you're convinced that Paradise is achieved by getting rid of those evil thieves who stand in the way of progress…"

Her face scrunches up, "The people who called for all that must've been crazy."

"No, they were _too sane_ , if anything," I chuckle. "So sane that they could rationalize to themselves the deaths of millions of Jews, intellectuals, homosexuals, farmers, black people—"

"Okay, _stop_!" she huffs. "You make it sound like it's so easy for us to just jump into insanity."

"Well, it's not _that_ easy. Like any amount of real change, that kind of resentment and anger rises slowly. But that potential's in all of us. Especially the best of us. Take us away from civilization, give us enough power to control it, or reshape the world to fit your mold. More often than not, _that_ 's what we are."

" _That_ 's why you wanted to be a detective? 'Cause you think we're all monsters?"

"I think we can _all_ be monsters, if we wanna be. When I read all that stuff the first time, I thought _Maybe I can make a difference_. _Maybe little by little, I can help people. Maybe things can change._ Then I grew up."

"Well, maybe you should've shown a little more dedication."

"C'mon…"

"I'm serious! You'd totally make it in the detective business if you tried! I'm sure you would!"

"And would that really change anything?"

"It can't hurt to give it a shot."

I make a _pfft_ noise. "Dad said otherwise. Imagine telling your 13-year-old kid _You can't change the world_."

"So what? You're just gonna give up on your dreams 'cause your _Dad_ told you to?"

"When _people_ prove your Dad right, you tend to listen a bit more to what he says."

"But you don't _talk_ much to people, I mean—so far you've been talking to _me alone_ these past few months! You're getting all your insights from history books!"

"What else am I gonna use 'em for? Toilet paper?"

"You act like everyone's bound to let you down."

"Everyone _is_ bound to let you down."

"You haven't let _me_ down."

"By the end of the year, I guarantee you'll be _sick_ of me."

"Are _you_ sick of _me_?"

I furrow my brows at her, "No."

She smirks, "Shouldn't you be saying _not yet_?"

"Well, for this one instance, I have hope."

"Hope in what?"

"That it won't end with all this up in flames. Because, despite my best efforts to the contrary, I quite like you guys."

Suddenly she's all red and flustered. Then she's turning away. "For all you know, I might end up letting you down."

Not anytime soon, though. "Lets get back to studying."

She sighs, "Sure."

* * *

Kana and I had actually agreed days ago to study overnight, on her proposal. She needed help, I was all for a good refresher run, and all the while we'd watch over Masako.

I would leave by Saturday afternoon. Dad's not gonna come home in the next few days and I've bribed the housekeepers to not tell him.

I am to sleep on the couch downstairs and I am fine with that. Though Kana did seem a little...iffy with that idea, for some reason. The only other option was to have us both sleep in the same room, and that's obviously not what she'd want.

But the point is it is now 9:00 PM and Kana and I are _supposed_ to be studying well into the evening but that is not the case.

Because Kana herself is asleep, now.

I just went out a little while ago to the restroom and the moment I came back, I saw her with her head rested on the _kotatsu_ and Masako just sitting next to her, tapping her body with her small open palm.

I am sitting on the opposite end of the _kotatsu_ , watching Kana sleep. My hand is cupping my chin and my elbow is on the table and I am both bored and amused somehow. I don't much like the idea of wasting my time, but something about Kana sleeping so _plainly_ right in front of me kind of sort of makes me feel as though I'm _not_ wasting it at all.

Maybe it's the way her black hair splays about all over the table yet still looks so uniform, like a blotch of black paint over a brown canvas. Maybe it's the way the hair strands hover so neatly over her face without ever touching it or obscuring it too much. Maybe it's the way her closed eyes look so peaceful despite how the lower half of her face is buried in the red of her scarf.

Or maybe I'm just some creep who likes seeing women sleeping right before him. I don't know.

I then notice someone to my left. A little person in her pink clothes, staring at me inquisitively as she stands on her own two stubby little feet.

I ask her, "What is it?"

She tilts her head. I blink, staring back at her and shifting my whole body to face her. She doesn't budge. She turns her head away from me, biting two of her fingers, before turning back and letting her hand fall back to her side.

I do not know how to proceed.

I think of what to say, wonder what to do. Then I remember a book I brought along with me, in my bag. One that I considered handing over to Kana tomorrow, one that she'd read to Masako as a bedtime story. But now that it is 9:00 and it _should_ _be_ Masako's bedtime, I think it's fine to take the first step myself.

So I reach into my bag and pull out the book and turn to the little girl, "This is—"

Aaaand Masako is gone. The door is open. The door to the lower floors. And I hear a rough _bumping_ set of noises as I scramble out the door and I am afraid and I am terrified oh my goodness no please nothing bad happen what what what what—

Masako is at the bottom of the stairs. The bumping noises were just her steps as she rushed down. I sigh, "M-Masako—"

She then runs out of my field of view as I pursue her.

I head down the stairs, not wanting the little girl to end up bumping into some wooden frame and injuring herself. Though the moment I stop by the first floor, I see her nowhere. The door to the outside is locked, so I don't have to worry about her leaving anytime soon. Considering it took her such a short amount of time to hide, she must be somewhere relatively closeby. Unless she's already changed positions by the time I've turned my head.

I think of where she could be. Hiding by the armchair to my right? In the little cupboard to my left? In the restroom? Or the most logical choice...right next to the staircase?

I turn.

There she is.

She giggles, and I sigh.

So an idea passes in my head. Masako needs to rest now. A two-year old can't stay up by 9:00. And I don't wanna _carry_ her to bed. I don't want to drop her or anything. I pretend to ponder what to do as I walk back up the stairs, keeping my head high to make sure Masako knows I'm not looking at her.

But the moment I take my first step, I see her gripping my pant leg. She is looking up at me with wide eyes. Her head is facing the ground however, and she doesn't make a sound as her soft grip tightens 'round the denim.

I smile at her, and she doesn't react. I open my hand to her, and after a few seconds of looking at it, she takes it.

We ascend the stairs slowly.

* * *

"This is my favorite book...," I say to Masako. "And you probably won't even understand a thing I say the moment I begin narrating."

Masako eyes me and the book and she is not very impressed by either sight. I don't blame her.

"It's about a pilot," I continue, then asking, "You know what that is?" even though I'm sure she won't understand me—but then she shakes her head as though responding in the negative. I blink, surprised. "W-well, it's a person that flies an airplane."

Masako blinks as she takes another look at the book in my hands and this time seems interested. _Seems_ being the key word.

"He meets up with a little prince whose home is on an asteroid," I tell her. "Asteroid B-612. The Little Prince and the Pilot walk across the land, and the Prince talks to the Pilot about his many journeys throughout the stars. But all the while, The Prince wonders about his lost love: a beautiful Rose he left behind on Asteroid B-612."

Masako is looking at me now, curious. Asking me why without asking me why.

"It was because he was too young to know how to love her," I say. "Her vanity pushed him away, and so he sought other things beyond his planet. Yet he discovered that nothing in the universe would be ever able to replace her, because she was his. And it is this realization that brings him to his knees."

Masako keeps staring at me. After a few seconds, she sits into my lap and keeps her eyes onto the book. She flips open the first page, but tilts her head because _of_ _course_ , she wouldn't be able to read at this point. So I begin narrating.

"'Once when I was six years old, I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called _True_ _Stories_ _from Nature_ , about the primeval forest. It was a picture of a boa constrictor in the act of swallowing an animal. Here is a copy of the drawing.'"

When Kana sees the drawing, she presses herself into me, as though more than a little scared of the sight but trying to fight it off. It is incredible she's able to understand as much as she does.

I make my voice grand yet cautious as I continue, "'In the book it said: _Boa_ _constrictors_ _swallow their_ _prey_ _whole,_ _without_ _chewing_ _it._ _After_ _that_ _they_ _are_ _not_ _able_ _to_ _move,_ _and_ _they_ _sleep_ _through the six months that they need for_ _digestion._ '"

She may not understand a word from _The_ _Little_ _Prince_ , but perhaps someday when she's like seventeen years old a brief flicker of a memory will be triggered in her brain and she'll suddenly find the urge to read about pilots and princes and asteroids. I continue talking and before we know it we manage to reach the point where the Pilot recounts his Drawing Number One.

The picture is that of a yellow pipe-ish creature with a rather large hump for a back. Masako looks at the picture curiously, not knowing what to make of it much.

I tell her of how the Pilot had expected the adults to have been shocked and horrified by what he'd drawn, "'But they answered: _Frighten?_ _Why_ _should_ _any_ _one_ _be_ _frightened_ _by_ _a_ _hat?_ '"

Masako giggles again, smiling now, smiling like her mother.

.

.

.

* * *

**12 / 6 / 2014**

End-term exams are over.

My classmates are chattering about what their plans are for Christmas break and the next school year and all I am doing is turning my head 'round and 'round, looking for Kana. Wanting to know how she's doing, now that the dragon has been defeated. Of course, she is exhausted after her climactic showdown, to the point where she is lying facedown on her desk and unmoving.

I am not surprised, though I am amused. I walk over to her with my bag in my hands and the moment I reach her desk she rises up and sees me. Smiling, she chuckles a little and I notice that she's still wearing that red scarf of hers, despite it being spring. Though I decide not to bring it up, because she looks rather nice with it on. It honestly feels as though the world would not be turning correctly if I am going to one day see her without the red draped over her shoulders.

"So," I say to her, grinning.

"I...think I did alright," she says, scratching at her head. "Though I can't be too sure. Math still destroyed me...I'm sure you did fine, though."

I take in a deep breath, "Biology was troublesome. Didn't expect three essay questions about Darwin and his discoveries. Also had a little trouble in algebra, all things considered; didn't review for it as much as I needed to. In the end, I can expect at least an average grade for both of them."

She smiles, "Well. I'm sure you'll get hundreds regardless."

"We'll see. I'm a little nervous. Pretty much winged it on the last Darwin essay. Not so sure if Tanaka-sensei would very much like what I've written. Lots of erasure marks and all."

"You? Nervous? The world must be coming to an end."

"I'm only human."

She raises her brow, her cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink, "You should come to the house again, during winter break. Read to Masako again."

"I already gave you the book. You've not read it to her yet?"

"I tried...she doesn't listen when I try reading it to her, though. She always just wanders off and does her own thing. With you, she actually sits down and pays attention. You'd made it two chapters with her last time, and I only went as far as a sentence. Guess I'm just not a very good storyteller..."

"If I keep on reading it to her, she'll become too accustomed to me. You've still got a chance to let her get used to you."

"Maybe...," she trails off, before turning back to me. "But back to the point. Come to the house again, and soon. U-unless you'd be okay with..."

"With what?" I ask, her face practically blazing red.

She lowers her head into her scarf as she says, "With...," then she keeps herself silent for a little while longer before letting out a grunting noise, and she tears her head up from her table, "w-would you be interested in coming to the Big Bang Burger store in Ginza?"

"Is that the one you work at?"

Sheepishly, she nods. "Y-yeah...I'll be working on Saturday, but my boss is allowing me some free time by noon this weekend, so...we can just...," she stares into her table, like she can't look at me for some reason, "we can just hang out around the place, then..."

"Who'll take care of Masako?"

"Mom does when I'm out, remember? So...will you be free then?"

I think about it for a little while. Wondering if there's anything I've got planned. But then I see Kana's face blistering red, her freckles turning a deep crimson shade as I realize that I'd just _feel bad_ if I am to say no. So I'll just forget whatever I've got planned then.

"Sure. I can make it."

For a second her eyes flutter and she smiles and she's now laughing as though she didn't expect me to say yes, but then just as immediately she clears her throat and she stutters, "G-good. Great. Alright, then. I'll...I'll see you then. Noon. Remember that."

I nod, "Very well."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a very, very tumultuous experience with Persona 5; I can't think of a single game or story where I've had so many changes of opinion.
> 
> And really it all stemmed from the fact that, in Persona 5, I perceived was a very strong shift in tone and philosophy from the rest of the series that I didn't really know how to deal with, my first time playing. Personas 3 and 4 in particular had always asserted that the only way a person can "change their heart" so to speak is if they make the choice to; if they decide to mature as a result of their experiences and grow as people.
> 
> It's a very empowering, resonant message that stuck with me long after I'd experienced those stories. The idea of an evil man possessing a truly reprehensible Shadow was something I'd longed to see be addressed in the series, and while P5 handed that experience to me on a platter, the proposed solution that the game provided felt...off to me.
> 
> The act of forcibly changing people's hearts felt genuinely wrong to me; not in the moral sense, but in the sense that it felt like this was the opposite direction the series had pointed me to for so long. 4 especially had instilled the idea in me that anyone can change into a better person of their own will, and this game comes along and says "What if they don't wanna change?"
> 
> It got to the point where, by the time I reached the ending in the Vanilla game, I felt more confused than anything by how things escalated so strongly, and overall I felt the ending was pretty rushed.
> 
> Then I watched other peoples' analyses on the ending (namely MangaKamen's critique of Cvit's P5 video, along with Aleczandxr's What Does Persona 5's True Ending Mean?) and I ended up with a far more positive opinion of the game than before. It's helped that I got P5 Royal and it's turning out FAR better than how the original game ever did.
> 
> Reading up on Royal's plotline, however, really REALLY got me disappointed in one very specific character. This WHOLE fic is an attempt to rectify that.
> 
> The story's also been heavily inspired by SMT III: Nocturne, as both games seem to have an equal disdain for oppressive overlord-deities-it's just that Nocturne goes about it in a much more cynical, much more terrifying way than Persona ever could. Not to say that's a bad thing at all...although considering I'm planning to incorporate much of its themes, ideas, imagery, and even a few of its characters into a Persona 5 novelization, it'll definitely bode poorly for the Phantom Thieves and their Targets.
> 
> To this end, Mementos will be massively overhauled and Palaces will have one major change. Hope you stick around, this is gonna be a bumpy ride on the highway to Hell.


	3. Because I Choose Not To

**12 / 14 / 2014**

There is a charm to fast food restaurants that _rich_ _people_ _restaurants_ don't really have. Sure, you could always go for a Caesar's salad or a fine t-bone steak at some place with a French name, but there's something raw to sinking your teeth into a burger and trying to get all the sesame seeds out of your teeth with your tongue. There's something satisfying about sucking all the oils out of a french fry before mashing it to bits with your back teeth.

It's youthful and childish and my father _definitely_ isn't a big fan of it, but he doesn't know I'm in Big Bang Burger at the moment, about to hang out with a girl.

"W-would you like me to take your order, sir?"

And this girl is surprised that I've come about thirty minutes early. "I'd like a cheeseburger. Nothing more, nothing less."

She is blinking at me and she is angry and embarrassed and stunned, and for some reason I like the expression she's putting on. Her face is red because she's wearing a yellow shirt with a thigh-length brown skirt and a sailor's hat and I realize that it's the first time I'm seeing her without her scarf on. Though she looks incomplete without the scarf, I am impressed how she manages to pull off such a cheesy-looking uniform.

And it's nice to be able to see her lower jaw. It's soft.

She then lowers her head and whispers, her face blazing red again, "What are you doing here now thirty minutes early you weren't supposed to —"

"Thought it'd be interesting," I say, sipping a cup of water.

"Is that your excuse for everything?" she rushes out, sounding like she wants to throttle me here and now.

"Pretty much, yeah." She's unamused. "What? I was supposed to've come here later, anyway. The only difference is you're wearing your uniform."

"Do you know how _embarrassing_ this thing is!?" she pinches at the hem of her yellow shirt, like it's an alien life form trying to absorb her into itself. "I hate yellow! I look like a mustard bottle! I was supposed to have changed by the time you arrived —!"

"You don't look half bad, you know."

She doesn't respond for a second. She turns her back to me, feeling her cheeks, then she turns back

and stammers, "Y-you really think so...?"

Then there is another girl who comes in, someone who has orange hair (most likely dyed), and she is smiling rather strangely at the both of us. The moment I see her I pull the grey hood I've brought with me over my head and the girl with the orange hair heads over to Kana and taps her on the shoulder.

Kana is shocked at the girl's untimely arrival, dropping the notebook she's had with her since the moment she asked for my order. Kana stammers, "M-Mitsuko?"

The girl with the orange hair looks at me, and though her eyes are on me her body is facing Kana, and she asks, "Is this the guy?"

At that Kana burns red and she is stammering again and she tells this Mitsuko girl to can it for some reason, trying to keep her eyes away from mine and suddenly becoming all jittery and nervous.

Though I am amused at the sight of her floundering about, I am at the same time concerned. She is flustered, but at the same time perhaps I may have overstepped a few boundaries in coming here so early.

Kana shoves the girl in the backroom and I sit in my chair and I look at the clock. It is 11:45 AM.

Maybe I did step a little over the line. Caught her off-guard, at the place she works at. But she really does look good in yellow. She's always looked good, no mtter what she'd wear. But she's not just looks; she's devoted and she's determined and even though she used to be more'n a little irresponsible she's now trying to do something right. And I can respect that, really.

Perhaps she didn't deserve me coming in here all smug. Even though I didn't know she'd have reacted this way, having me see her in her uniform, I knew coming here would've jolted her to at least some degree. Even though I didn't expect her to have taken it as much as she did...perhaps it'd be best for me to apologize.

When she comes around, that is.

Though by the time she does come around, about thirty minutes later, I'm not amused or apologetic anymore.

"Thank you, sir, for participating in the Big Bang Challenge."

She is still wearing that yellow shirt and that sailor hat and that short brown skirt as she plops a gigantic burger down before my eyes. The burger is as large as a Volkswagen tire and it's got lettuces and tomatoes and an inordinate amount of patties filling the space between the upper and lower buns. Kana is smiling at me as she takes the sailor hat off and she makes her way to the back.

I smirk at the back of her head, as she just always finds a way to surprise me. So I get to digging into the massive burger, willing to accept my punishment and at the same time show her up.

* * *

She is just stunned, amazed, bewildered.

She's wearing civilian clothes now; green hoodie, blue jeans, that same red scarf, and she isn't saying a word at the moment. I am wiping my mouth with a napkin as she just continues staring at me like I'm not even human in her eyes.

"You...you ate it..."

"Mm."

"All of it...before I could even change out of my uniform..."

"Pretty much."

"How...? Nobody who's ever come in here has even managed halfway through..."

"It's not very difficult, really," I say. "Patience. A wide mouth. Twenty chews per piece. All that...and I forgot to eat breakfast."

Kana blinks, burying her head again into her scarf. "You keep on finding ways to one-up me..."

"Now, then. What've you got in mind?"

"There're a lot of arcades around here. We could start from there, if you'd like."

I blink, "Didn't know you were into that kinda thing..."

"Mostly just stress relief," she says. "I'm a pro at Gun About."

"Frankly, never played around with arcade games. Just not my thing."

"What do you do for _fun..._?" she exclaims, practically bursting with disbelief.

"I read. Look up stuff on politics here and there. Watch TV every now and again. And that's about it. We've been over this, haven't we?"

"You're impossibly boring."

"Big tragedy. But I'm not averse to the idea of just horsing around in an arcade," I say, getting up from my seat. "Who knows? Might be fun."

"If it helps you broaden your horizons, then let's be off!" she says, rising from her own seat. "Maybe now you'll find something a little more interesting than books..."

"Nothing's more interesting than a good book," I tell her. "You ever read Orwell?"

"Who?" she asks as we walk out the door.

"Search up _1984_ , by George Orwell," I tell her as we calmly make our stride along the sidewalk. "You won't be disappointed."

* * *

By the time we finish the arcades we go to a few more restaurants and a couple of drink stands. Our talks oscillate between worries about grades and about our family members or about the annoying things Kana's friends do.

Before we know it we're in the middle of Shibuya, people passing us by as we sit on a little bench. Hundreds of people, not knowing a thing about either of us.

Eventually she tells me, "So Mom got a new job about a week ago."

"Is it good?"

"Financial manager sounds kick-ass, don't it?"

My eyes widen. "That's not bad at all. How...?"

"A buncha people she'd sent her resume to _months_ ago decided to finally respond just before our latest batch of exams. Lucky her, her line of work impressed them enough."

"That sounds great!" I smile.

"I'm a little anxious, though."

"How come?"

"Well...she's not exactly lining herself up with the best people."

I narrow my eyes. "Who's she working for?"

"Some business person. You've heard of Masayoshi Shido, right?"

I recall a bald man with glasses tinted orange. I'd seen his face in articles, but never really heard much about him. No news on his origins, his family, his educational background. But he's spoken with my father. Enough such that I'd see Dad looking like he wants to rip his hair out of his head pretty much every night, after their meetings.

" _Him_?"

"You know him?"

I shake my head. "Shido's been in talks with the Nanjo Group fairly recently. Not exactly the best business partner, apparently."

"Makes you say that?"

"Guy's got a big ego, so says my Dad," I shrug. "Thinks he's on par with Shinzo Abe when really Abe prolly doesn't even know he exists."

"You're joking."

"Dad likes to make quips about people, so he might've been exaggerating. But hell. Dad never gets pissed or annoyed at anyone. So this Shido guy must be a real catch..."

She rubs her left hand up her right arm. "Guy makes me uncomfortable."

"Why?"

"He...," she rubs the back of her neck. "I dunno. Mom says he...looks at her funny, from time to time."

"God," I shake my head. "Often?"

"Often _enough_ ," she groans, "way Mom tells it, he stays an extra few seconds to like, _leer_. Like, he leans over her while she works to _check on her progress_ and how is he supposed to be a good politician if he's such a bad liar?"

"If he makes you guys uncomfortable, maybe she should quit-"

"She _just_ got this job, though."

"Yeah, and her boss is a creep."

"Are there any openings in the Nanjo Group for a financial advisor?"

I narrow my eyes at her. I scratch my head. "Honestly, dunno. Though I'm pretty sure Dad and Nanjo already got people working on their finances for 'em."

"Figured," she sighs. "Mom doesn't really wanna quit, either. And it's not even _just_ Shido, she gets men from all over just _eyeballing_ her, she feels like she can't even concentrate on her work sometimes. She's been frustrated and annoyed and irritated but she puts up with it and it's all so-"

"Calm down."

" _Don't_ _tell_ _me_ _to_ _calm_ _down!_ " I let her simmer and stay silent. She turns away. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's...," I tap her on the shoulder, and she turns to face me again. "Hey. Don't..."

"I just want Mom to be okay," she sighs. "She's just, she's worked so _hard_ to keep me and Masako safe. She doesn't deserve this. Nobody deserves this."

And I look at her, and she looks so sad. But.

Since when did we ever get what we deserved? "You talk like this is your fault." She doesn't respond. She won't even face me. "Do you think this is your fault...?"

"I mean..."

"Hey," I turn her face to me, "do you think _any_ _of_ _this_ is your fault?"

"Whose else could it be...?" she whispers, the kind of whisper you make when you hope they don't hear you but you've just gotta let it out.

"Blaming yourself won't help this at all."

"Maybe I should've blamed myself more. Maybe none of this would've happened if I'd just..."

"Just what?"

"You know, sometimes I think Masako deserves a better mom than me."

And I don't know how to deal with that. All so suddenly. "Where's this coming from...?"

"It's nothing-"

"Hey, you don't just _spring_ that on me outta nowhere and expect me to let it die all of a sudden."

She groans like she's tired of hearing my voice, "I don't think you'd get it."

" _Kana_ ," I say firmly, "I've been with you, working with you for the past few months now. I chose to help you out, not that you owe me anything. But if you think that I _won't_ _care_ or even at least try to understand your problems when you bring them up...what kind of man do you think I am?"

" _The_ _kind_ _that-"_ and she stops herself. There's an anger in her eyes that she lets subside. Her hard- edged face turns soft as she sinks back into the bench. "I feel horrible."

"You're going through a lot. This thing with your Mom, and Shido. It's crazy. Neither of us can figure out a solution right now, but we will. And if we won't, your Mom almost certainly will. And we or she will do it, but it won't happen if you keep blaming yourself for it."

And she looks at me, tired and impassive, almost like she doesn't believe a word I say.

I'm reminded of that first day where she kicked my books outta my hands. She'd hounded me till I said I'd help her with her books and not once did I renege on that promise.

I remember that I chose to help her. That I, at any time, could have just up and left her and Masako behind. But I didn't and I won't and I don't want to. Because I don't like the idea of leaving mothers and their children alone in their hour of need, because I don't like the idea of abandoning her, because I don't like the idea of not being with her.

And I don't know why I don't like that idea.

I don't know why I had fun, reading Masako _The_ _Little_ _Prince_. I don't know why she's willing to hang out with someone as impossibly boring as I am, either.

What compelled her to want to be with me now? What compelled me to want to stay? What compels me to want something more?

She sighs, her thigh buzzing, "Hold on...got a new text."

"Sure, sure."

She unlocks her phone and sees what's on her screen. Her eyes widen and she says not a thing. I squint at her, wondering what she's looking at to make her look so pale. Then my thoughts go to cold hard logic and all at once I am terrified.

I look at the text with her. It is from Kana's mother. It is about Masako.

* * *

When we buy the medicine neither of us talk and neither of us want to talk. We barely even exchange glances the whole time as we storm through every aisle in search of this bottle of pills or that pack of sedatives. We also buy several bags of junk food and multiple cup ramen packs from the place because we know that what awaits us is a long series of days where we'll end up doing nothing but staring at a little person in a little bed.

The ensuing train ride, we are sitting next to each other. I am looking out the window, holding the plastic bag of medicines in my hand while she carries all the food she's gonna gorge herself on in the coming days. Her face is being buried into her scarf as she lowers her head till all I can see not obscured by red are her green eyes, shrouded mostly in the black of her hair.

She doesn't budge an inch from her seat; her shoulders don't tremble, her eyes don't tear up, she doesn't just flat-out burst into unrelenting sobs, she's just sitting there, staring at the corrugated steel of the train floor like it wronged her in some way.

Kana tells me about how Masako was so sickly when she was born all the way back in Nagoya. Tells me about how Masako was once was treated by a doctor who would constantly demand her to stay longer hours in the hospital and in turn, demanded more money from her family. Kana speaks of how her mother and her father would work 'round the clock just to get enough money to take care of Masako but they would always just end up getting small bits of cash. Kana speaks of how the rumors started about her being _easy_ because she went after the wrong guy, and how the rumors kept on spreading around and she couldn't do a thing but take it.

She is not crying and she is not enraged as she continues vomiting out words, she is just tired. She is breathing heavily once she finishes her spiel, though, and immediately apologizes for dumping all of this on me, admits that she just needs someone to talk to, tells me that I can just go back home once we reach the next station and she says that knowing she actually wants me to keep on staying next to her, like this.

So I tell her, "I'll come with you, to the hospital."

Kana does not speak for a few moments.

But then she says, "Don't. I've already burdened you with enough as it is. So much of your time's been wasted on me already."

I scoff at her, "You're assuming you're actually burdening me with something."

"Kazuya," she grunts out, "you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

I eye her carefully. "What if I want to?"

"You do?"

"What if I do?"

"Are you just forcing yourself?" she asks.

"What are you _saying_?"

"I-I know you don't like wasting time, this isn't what you bargained for when I asked you to hang out, you don't have to—"

"What if I really, _really_ want to?"

She says something I don't really understand because she's whispering it so quietly but then she repeats herself— "You're not forcing yourself, are you sure?"

"Why would you think I am? _Now_?"

"I don't know, I don't know," she grunts. "I just I can never tell with you, you always have some sort of quip and you get all evasive when I ask why you're helping me and my family and you're _nice_ and I don't know if that niceness is real or not sometimes but I just I don't know, I don't know, I don't know a lot of things, I don't know when you're gonna leave—"

"I am not going to leave you. Because I don't like the idea of leaving someone behind when the

stakes are as high as they are with you. Because I like being with you, and I consider you a very good friend. Because in the end, I've already gotten myself into this with you and I don't want to leave it as it is. I am not going to leave you, because I _choose_ not to."

Kana doesn't say anything after that.

Our hands are just barely touching. Her pinky finger is on mine and both of us know it, yet neither of us are willing to do more than just let ourselves remain there, as we are. Neither of us are looking at each other now because we both also know that the moment we catch the whites of the other's eyes, we'll just unload everything and anything that comes off the top of our heads and by the end of it we'll just drown into the other.

Neither of us speaks again, not until the train reaches the next station.

* * *

Masako, thankfully, _just_ has a cold.

Apparently she gets these a lot, thanks to a still-underdeveloped immune system. But she's a fighter; doctor said she'd get better in about three or so days if she gets all the medicine she's been assigned at exactly the right number of hours away from each other. She's able to stand and laugh and look at us, so we're inclined to believe him. And all that drama Kana and I shared in that train car? That was just us overreacting.

But it wasn't unwarranted. After all, the very idea of Masako being sick is enough to get us both scared to the bone. In our fear we both just bought a bunch of medicines and junk foods on impulse, fearing the absolute worst from the vague text of _Masako's_ _sick_ _and_ _needs_ _to_ _be_ _brought to_ _the_ _hospital_. That got a good laugh out of Kana's mother.

But Kana and I haven't really spoken much since that little talk of ours in the train car, days ago. And perhaps we should. Every time my eyes meet hers, she averts her gaze. But every time I'm not looking at her, I can feel her eyes on the back of my head. What she could be thinking, I am unaware. Why this matters to me so much, I am unaware. But all I know is that I don't like the idea of not being able to talk to her again. Not when we're so close, not when we're taking care of the same child.

Not when I've got this unseasonable heat in my neck whenever she's near me, not when the sight of her hands stirs something in me that makes me want to hold them, not when the sight of anything red just blares the word _scarf_ in my head.

Not when I just want to be able to talk to her like a regular human being again.

But now is not the time. "Now, the Fox and the Prince cared for each other immensely."

Masako is reading the book intently, sitting right in my lap as I point to every important word and every important image. She is so taken by the sight of the book you'd never even think she's sick. The way her eyes move with the pages, the way her voice mewls every time she tries to repeat what I'm saying. She's an intelligent child and it'd be a waste if any sickness she gets will eventually stunt her growth.

It is raining outside. It is raining hard. But that's a good thing. This is the perfect atmosphere for reading a good book like this one.

"The Fox and the Prince didn't know each other at first," I tell her. "To the Fox, the Prince was just a little boy like a thousand other little boys. To the Prince, the Fox was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But now that the Prince has tamed the Fox, they need each other. To each other, they are unique in all the world."

Masako looks up at me before looking back at the book and nodding, as though affirming what I've just told her.

Kana is by the door and she is watching the scene unfold. She says nothing and does nothing but stand there with folded arms and an expression I can't read at all on her face.

"But now that the Prince has to leave, the Fox can't help but feel sad. As the Prince looks upon the many roses he's encountered throughout his journey, he realizes that in the end, they do not matter. Do you know why?"

Masako shakes her head, staring deeply into the paper.

"Because the Rose he'd left behind on Asteroid-B612 was his Rose," I say. "It is the time he wasted on her that makes her so precious to him. No other rose can fill in her place in his heart."

Masako tilts her head as she grips the sides of the book herself. Surprised for just a second, I decide to allow her to hold it as I continue reading to her.

"So now, that the Prince must leave, must see his Rose once more, the Fox gifts him with one secret, a very simple secret," and I point out the words to her as I read them aloud: " _It_ _is_ _only_ _with the_ _heart_ _that_ _one_ _can_ _see_ _rightly;_ _what_ _is_ _essential_ _is_ _invisible_ _to_ _the_ _eye._ "

Kana looks at the clock on the wall; only thirty minutes till Masako takes her next batch of medicines. Masako's reading the book and she doesn't look like she wants to put it down. Though she shouldn't be able to read much, her eyes go from one word to the next like mine do, her breathing calms like mine does when I read, her lips purse and she becomes a mouth-breather like I do when I'm engrossed in a good story.

I turn to Kana and immediately her face reddens as she buries herself into her scarf. I raise my brow at her, and she finds it in herself to look at me. I see the blood pooled in her cheeks and I can't help but think she looks even more beautiful than she normally does with a rosy glow to her face.

* * *

**12 / 6 / 2014**

Masako, after taking her last batch of pills, is tucked away in the crib and sleeps the moment Kana lays her down. Kana doesn't look at me as she whispers, "Downstairs."

I nod shortly after, taking one last look at a sleeping Masako as Kana shuts the lights and gestures out the door. I leave the room with her, and we both take a quiet walk down to Kana's living room. Her face is red and I realize that mine is as well, because we're by each other's sides and that last conversation we had in the train took a little turn for the dramatic.

I am thinking about the implications of what I've said. Though I don't regret saying any of it, I can't help but feel as though that I've said too little. That there's so much more I could say and should say. But I don't know why I feel compelled to speak so many more words.

But when she sits down on the couch of her living room and she looks at me with those blazing yet exhausted green eyes of hers, when she lowers her head into her scarf but continues looking at me the way she does, when she leans in the cushion of her couch and drifts pieces of hair away from her face I begin to articulate just what I feel towards her and eventually the words come popping up in my brain.

And, like a switch has turned off my filter, I decide to say outright, "I think I like you."

Her eyes are wide but her breaths are still and she keeps her mouth shut. Her face reddens even more than it already has, and her hands grip at her skirt for a little before she lets go of the hem. She takes in a deep breath as she stammers for a little before coming out with a shaky, "Are you sure?"

I look at her again. Look down at her feet and work my way up to her face. I then purse my lips and nod, "I am."

"You can't be sure about that," she says. "Nobody's ever sure about that."

"Well. I like hanging out with you. I like spending time with you. I am concerned with what happens to you and your family. I do not like the idea of seeing you sad. And..."

"And what?" she asks, my sudden silence alien to her.

I rub the back of my head, "I'm not...opposed to the idea of us in a relationship."

She shakes her head and sighs, "It's not that simple."

"Of course I don't think it's simple," I say to her. "That's why I think what I feel is _—_ "

"You've spent barely any time with me outside of this house," she says. "We only hung out once, and even that was cut short 'cause of what happened with Masako. We spend time studying, and most of that time we spend horsing around, sure, but I _—I_ _don't_ _know_ _if_ _—_ I don't know if that really even can _count_."

"Count as what?"

"Count as _—_ " she runs her hand through her hair, "what do you know about me? Like, what do I like, what do I dislike, what shows do I watch, what's my favorite color, do you even know any of those things?"

"I'd like to," I tell her. "We've not spoken about those things, but I'd like to, when we get to them. There's much about myself you don't know, either."

"Then why do you _like_ me?" she asks.

"You are yourself, and that's fine with me," I say.

"That can't _be—"_ she groans, "this isn't like, some story. This isn't some stupid love story, this isn't like _The_ _Little_ _Prince_ , _essential-invisible-eye_ nonsense, it's a stupid kid asking a smart kid to help her out with her life and dragging him into a mess of a life _—"_

"You're not stupid," I say to her.

"I'm not!?" she suddenly exclaims, before breathing and lowering her tone. "Look at this. I can barely help my family in financial situations 'cause I've had a kid, I make attendance in school by the skin of my teeth, I fail quizzes, I can't even study on my own, _I_ _can't_ _even_ _read_ _a_ _book_ _to_ _my kid_ without someone else helping me and you don't think any of this is a mess? You don't think any of this is stupid in the slightest? You don't think I'm stupid? What do you even think will happen, you getting together with me?"

I don't look at her as I answer simply, "I don't know."

"See?"

"But hey. Like you said…it can't hurt to give things a shot, right?"

"Oh my—" she holds her head in her hands. "You can't be serious _—_ I have a kid. We can't _—I_ _need to—"_

"I hang at your place pretty much every week," I say. "You need an extra hand in taking care of Masako when the going gets tough. And I'm willing to help. I enjoy being with you, no matter the time or the place."

"But _—_ but _why_?" she asks. "I'm serious, I don't know what you could possibly see in any of this _—"_

"I'm not seeing _any_ _of_ _this_ , I'm seeing you."

"Well, what do you see _in_ _me_? What's so special about me?"

"But that's the point. You're the only one of yourself."

"What are you saying?"

"There may be people like you, but they're not _you_. I've been _with_ you. I've eaten food with you, I've studied with you, I've taken care of children with you, I've gone places with you I've never been to before and I don't want to go to those places with anyone else because I want to go to them _with_ _you_. And I want to go to many other places, I want to do a lot of other things, I want to be more than just a friend to you because I just—I like you. And all those times we've shared, whether we're hanging out or studying or reading books to Masako, they can't be replicated by anyone else and I wouldn't treasure them the same way I do with you."

She buries her head into her scarf as she finds herself unable to say much more. She leans into her seat again, pressing herself further into the cushion, as she asks me, "I'm a curse. Why would you want to be with me?"

"A curse...?" I ask her.

"Never mind, I—" she stares at me and she stops speaking and she looks into her scarf again and she can't form words for just a little moment until she comes out with, "what would your father think?"

"When we had _the_ _talk_ he told me he was willing to let me choose my girlfriend for myself. I've not been wedded to anybody, I've not even had a girlfriend before; never been interested," face turns red, "'til now."

Kana asks then, "What about the people at school, what'll they think if they see you and me dating and hanging around each other and, and your _Dad_ —?"

"If I cared about what they thought of me, I'd never have agreed to help you study."

"This isn't gonna work, I mean—your Dad especially's prolly gonna flip—"

She still doesn't look at me. She doesn't wanna say anything more. So I say the most hard-hitting thing of all. "You're not a burden. Not on anyone."

"I can't even read a book to my kid. I can't even be _there_ for her when she needs me to take care of her. I had her because I wanted to raise her and I can't even do that right. I still need my Mom, I still need _you_ , I still need so many people and I know that all I'm doing is dragging them down in the dirt with me and I can't do anything else because I'm so useless-"

"We chose to help you," I say to her. "You asked us, remember? And we accepted. Your Mom agreed to help, _I_ agreed to help, and we could have all said no at any time but we kept at it because we cared about you and Masako. If you were a burden, I would have never decided to continue helping you study. I would never have accepted your invitation to hang out at Ginza. I would never have read Masako _The Little_ _Prince_."

I then turn away from her. And I say, "You and Masako are special to me. I wouldn't trade either of you in for anyone else."

At that, I hear a chuckle. I turn back to her, and I see her wiping her eyes, continuing to make little bursts of laughter. "And you're telling me you've never had a girlfriend up until now?" she asks while furiously rubbing at mildly wet eyes.

I blush at her. Averting my gaze again. "Th-that could change, depending on if you...y'know..."

She chuckles again, her voice shaky as her nose clogs up and her eyes start to dry, "I think...I don't think...," I turn back to her as she removes her hands from her eyes, her red-green eyes that are tired and wet and still impossibly beautiful no matter what.

I look at her and for a moment I feel a little sad. Actually more than a little. But I let her continue.

"Masako's father...he and I had a real bad breakup. I don't feel anything towards him, not anymore, but...I don't think...I don't know if I can handle another relationship right now. That aside, you're not a bad guy to be with...but...I think it'd be best if...I had more time."

I nod. "That's fair."

"Let me think about it a little more. You'll have your answer by...," she thinks for a little. "Payday came early."

"What—?"

"Huh—?"

There's a light _slap_ ping sound that's ringing out in the room and we turn to it; there's an envelope on the coffee table across from Kana's couch and looming over both myself and Kana is Kana's mother. Smiling at us both and for once it's not a sly smile nor a scary smile but it's a genuine warm _motherly_ smile that I haven't seen out of anyone in a long time.

Kana and I watch as Kana's mother leaves us both in the living room to our fates, as Kana herself grabs at the envelope and sees what's inside.

Two tickets to Destiny Land.

Kana's hand shakes as she rises up from the couch and calls out to her mother, "M-Mom, I—!"

"You like him, too," Kana's mother says, which makes both of our faces unabashedly red. "Do you really want him to be _just_ a friend?"

I turn to Kana. And she's not looking at me. She's looking at the tickets in her hand and she's buried her face in her scarf again. Kana's mother smiles again as she treads up the stairs.

Kana now looks at me as I purse my lips. We both turn away from each other almost immediately after, rubbing at the backs of our heads. It takes what feels like an eternity to meet each other's gaze again. Her face is scarlet and my face is blood-red and we're both nervous and flustered and we're so embarrassed we could die but we don't want to be anywhere other than by each other's side.

Kana stares at me, then turns to her tickets, then stares at me again. "Would you...?"

I nod, "Yes. I...I would like to, very much."

Her face for like the thousandth time today gets buried in red as she asks, "Are you...free this Friday?"

"Well, yeah. But...as for the tickets, I think we'd be better off going on Christmas."

She's beet red, eyes wide, "Ch-Christmas?"

I see face her now, suppressing everything that tells me to run in embarrassment. "I-I think that's for the best."

"R-right, I...yeah."

"I'll be free by then, no studying to do to pass the time anyway—"

"I think that's the best time considering Mom'll be home that day—"

And we shut up because we're talking over each other and then she chuckles at how stupid we're acting.

Unable to bear this any longer I gather my bag and rush to the door, exclaiming, "I-I'll see you then!"

"You too!" Kana cries out in something like joy.

And I leave her house. And I feel like I'm on cloud nine.

* * *

Even though it is raining and it is raining very hard I just don't care anymore because I'm hanging out with Kana Kohaku on Christmas and she looks and acts and talks like she actually is not opposed to the idea of being with me, to the idea of being in a relationship with me, to the idea that she and I could be something together and the world and everyone in it doesn't matter in the slightest.

Joy. When has it been since I've last felt joy. When in this nothing life of mine have I sincerely felt good at interacting with another human being. When in this non-existence of mine have I ever felt as good as I do now? I wanna buy things for her, wanna eat cotton candy, win games, go on ferris wheels and amusement park rides, I wanna go out there in the world with her and experience everything, the rain on our hands, the wind in our hair, the sun hitting our faces, the _everything_ this incredible planet has to offer and I don't ever ever wanna stop.

Then my phone buzzes.

Then I get down from the lamppost. I open my phone, fearing it's my father, fearing it's Kana,

fearing what kind of message would this be and hoping it won't destroy anything that's happened this delightful evening.

Instead I get the opposite, Kana having written out a text saying _I_ _Can't_ _Wait_ _for_ _Christmas._ _:)_ and I can't help but smile, in the pouring rain. I can't help but wait for the next three days to be over. I can't help but for once in my life to be happy.

And I can't help but notice the little red icon that's popped up at the bottom of my phone.

I click on it to see what its name is, and I'm greeted with three words that just sound incredibly strange when paired up together:

 **「** **VORTEX WORLD NAVIGATOR** **」**

I try dragging the icon into the trash bin of my phone, figuring it's nothing at all but some app I got over my various ventures on the internet. But it won't react to my fingertips. It doesn't budge. Other icons do, other apps get deleted when I drag them to the bin, but not this one. This one doesn't move. Like it doesn't want to.

So I decide to leave it for another day. I think about Kana. I think about what we'll do when Christmas comes, I think about how amazing it'll be for the both of us, and I hope that in the end she'll just say _Yes_.


	4. Like I Was Somewhere Else

**12 / 25 / 2014**

My father almost never arrives home. Especially not during December. Some reason, he works almost exclusively at Cybers throughout most of this one, specific month.

So it's a surprise when I hear him ask directly to me, "Who have you been seeing?"

"Wh-what?"

The man is tall and slim and ivory-skinned, with raven-black hair kept in a widow's peak. His expression is stern and still, with a half-frown in his eyes that could freeze a murderer's guts. Unsurprisingly he's still wearing his work clothes—a dark brown suit with black leather shoes.

"I know you've been heading out of the house more often these past few months. But never got the chance to really _talk_ to you about all this." He approaches me, eyes narrow. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I don't answer him, for a time. "Was it that obvious? You don't even come home all that often."

"Yes, but whenever I do, you look about ten times as happy as usual. When you're _actually_ home, that is. As far as the housekeepers have told me, you've developed a habit of studying outside as of late. For _days_ at a time. And now, you're picking clothes that actually make you look _good_. So I'm assuming you're going on some kind of date tonight."

White shirt with blue sleeves, plain jeans. On anyone else it'd be boring as hell. On me? Kind of a casual suaveness.

And damn. He figured out I'm on a date.

I knew long ago I had to cross this bridge, when it came to it. But even now nothing's really coming. So when I try explaining myself all that comes out is "U-uh, I, erm, well you see," and you get the idea.

"You like her?"

I blink at him. "Yes."

"You thought about marrying her?" What. "Don't look so surprised."

I stammer because I'm stupid and for some reason can't even make out a few words in all this, "I-I don't think we're at that point yet, but..."

"Can you see yourself with her in at least the next five years?"

I say confidently, "Yes."

"I suppose there's really no cause for concern."

 _Whew. Thank_ _God-_

"Except for the fact you're not telling me everything."

Damn it. "What else is there to tell...?"

"I've been in business enough times to tell when someone's withholding 're hiding something."

She has a kid. "There's nothing else to her. She's just a...nice girl."

"Nice doesn't mean a thing," he shakes his head. "Everyone's _nice_. Is she _good_ , is what I'm asking?"

What do you mean by that? "She's a good person. A very good person."

"You're stalling. What aren't you telling me?"

Why the hell won't you just come out with it? "She's not...," I shake my head, "she's..."

"Either you'll marry this girl or you'll move on," he says firmly. "At this point, you should be looking for _every_ _single_ _thing_ _about_ _her_ that could jeopardize this relationship. Marrying the wrong person will destroy you."

A dull, bitter feeling settles in my chest then. "Why're you telling me all this now?"

He frowns, unhanding me. "Excuse me?"

"You barely come home as it is. Why does whoever I hang out with even matter to you _now_?"

"Normally I wouldn't mind _who_ it is you're running 'round the city with. But considering that you're clearly keeping secrets from me, I've a right as your father to be a little suspicious."

God damn it all. He's right.

Stupid, overemotional, mentally handicapped little freak. No use delaying it any more. You got into this mess and now you have to reap everything you've sown. Why can't you just tell him?

Because I have a bad, bad feeling of what might happen if I do. But then again, this feeling being there at all...

Doesn't it mean I shouldn't have gotten in a relationship with Kana to begin with? "She has a daughter."

Dad pauses. He doesn't let anything show. "A daughter."

"N-not...," I sigh, "not mine."

"Not yours?"

"She had a prior relationship. Many years ago. Didn't pan out right."

He raises his brow and folds his arms. "How old?"

"Three," I mutter. "Turned three earlier this February."

He doesn't respond for a time. For a long time. "This is why you decided to help her study."

"Yes."

"Leave her."

What the hell. Damn it. Plead. "She's a good person. She's a hard worker. She's smart when she wants to be and she's not a liar, nor stuck up nor pretentious-"

"Son."

"Kana's a good Mom, and Masako's a good kid!"

"But this _Masako_ isn't _yours_."

"This isn't what you think it is."

"Do you even realize what you're risking by doing this?"

"Yes, but-"

"Your career. Your reputation. Your social standing. Don't you see?"

Oh, really. Really. You're lecturing _me_ on this? "Your career, reputation, or social standing didn't seem to matter when you and Mom had _me_."

He closes his eyes for a good long while, then his gaze turns firm and harsh. "Don't bring your mother into this."

"Why shouldn't I?"

"This discussion is over."

I purse my lips.

"I don't want to be without her," is all I say.

And my father shakes his head, "You'll have to be."

I am stunned. "What...?"

"You'll go on your date, fine," he grunts, "but you'll part ways with her tonight. Do you understand?"

No, no, no. "She and I have already-"

"You have too much to lose."

I grit my teeth. "Dad."

"I'm not asking."

Then he turns away from me. And I stand there. And I am scared again. I then grab my bag and rush out the door.

My first and last date with Kana has to at least go well.

* * *

The knuckles and metacarpal bones in my right hand are all but destroyed, and any attempt I make at moving my bloodied fingers results in pain blasting out to the rest of my arm.

There's steel cuffed round my wrists, the chain locked to a pole in the center of the table. My shirt, my white shirt with blue sleeves, it's stained red as well.

The room is a dark gun-metal grey and there is a reflective window to my right. I am in a police station. What am I doing here? I can't remember. What was I doing last? Studying? No. Not studying, it's Christmas, why would I be studying on Christmas? There's something I should be doing. What day is it today? A Friday? Saturday? No, Friday. Friday. No other day.

What am I supposed to be doing on Friday? I shouldn't be here, I should be somewhere else. Why can't I remember where to go? No. I remember now. Kana. Me. Destiny Land. She and I. Together, hanging out like we're supposed to.

What am I doing here?

I should be on a ferris wheel with her. I should be eating cotton candy with her. I should be doing all sorts of amazing things. Why am I not with her? Where is she? I am scared. I do not know what to do or where to go or what's become of her _why_ _is_ _there_ _blood_ _on_ _my_ _hands_ _and_ _my_ _clothes_ —

A door opens. I try forcing my hands up to no avail. Cuffs are tight because of course they are, what are you thinking trying to get out of them through force alone, and a man sits down across from me. The man has brown hair that cascades down to his shoulders and dark brown eyes that glow in the dim lighting of the interrogation room and he looks about my age. He is wearing a brown overcoat of sorts and with a black-gloved hand he places a folder on the table.

"Please calm down," he says, pulling up a seat. "Acting all rabid won't help your chances."

My voice is no louder than a whisper when I ask, "What am I _doing_ here...?"

"You don't know?" he asks, incredulous. He leans a bit closer. "Or...you don't remember?"

"Remember what...?"

"It'd make sense," he murmurs to himself, "the officers responsible for your arrest said you required an...inordinate amount of force to apprehend you..."

"What happened, what did I do?" I ask him. "Please. Tell me. What did I do...?"

He looks at me intently, exhaling in something like pity, "So you really don't remember." I shake my head, to which he leans back in his seat. "Very well; allow me to introduce myself first. My name is Goro Akechi. I'm a detective. I came here because-"

" _What_ _happened_? _Why am I here_? Where's Kana?"

"Kana Kohaku is in this station," says Akechi, his tone cautious. "Can you recall anything from what happened? It was just a few hours ago. Please. For your own good, you need to tell me what happened."

"My own good...?" I stammer out.

"You very nearly killed a man," he sighs, pulling out a photograph of a bloody swiss army knife, from the aforementioned folder. "Is this yours?"

It takes me a moment before I realize what I'm looking at. "Yes, yes, my father—he gave me that knife in case I needed to...defend myself..."

"What happened? How did things come to this?" is all he asks.

"I...I don't...," I mutter as I clutch my head. "I don't remember, it's, it's all a blur, I don't know, I don't know...what did I even...?"

Akechi then says, "You brutally assaulted a man today; it's unlikely he'll survive his wounds. You need to get your side of the story straight first and foremost, or else there'll be hell to pay. Tell me your account of what happened."

"I...I was...getting ready for..."

"Ready for what?"

Red on my hands. Red on my hands. Red on my shirt. Bloodstains like food coloring. Red. Red. The color red. Scarf. Someone wearing a scarf, someone beautiful and impossible and someone I don't want to be without, "I was on a date."

* * *

_The_ _night_ _is_ _young._ _Kana_ _and_ _I_ _are_ _going_ _to_ _head_ _out_ _to_ _an_ _amusement_ _park._

 _I_ _push_ _my_ _father's_ _words_ _to_ _the_ _back_ _of_ _my_ _mind_ _and_ _I_ _am_ _telling_ _myself_ _to_ _stay_ _calm,_ _because_ _at least tonight, I'll have her all to_ _myself._

 _I_ _am_ _wearing_ _the_ _most_ _casual_ _clothes_ _I've_ _got_ _and_ _I'm_ _hoping_ _I_ _look_ _good_ _without_ _my_ _glasses_ _on. And as I am walking down the street I wonder what Kana will wear to our little get-together, wonder what rides we should get on first, what kind of games would be there, what food they would_ _serve._

 _But_ _then_ _I_ _hear_ _a_ _sound_ _as_ _I_ _stop._ _I_ _am_ _supposed_ _to_ _meet_ _up_ _with_ _Kana_ _at_ _her_ _place_ _and_ _from_ _there we're supposed to go to the station and ride the night away at Destiny Land like stupid hapless teenagers._ _I_ _am_ _on_ _the_ _correct_ _street,_ _though_ _I_ _am_ _about_ _nearly_ _twenty_ _minutes_ _late._

 _We_ _were_ _supposed_ _to_ _meet_ _up_ _at_ _around_ _8:00_ _PM._ _Due_ _to_ _the_ _talk_ _I_ _had_ _with_ _my_ _father,_ _I_ _am...more than a little delayed. But I'm hoping she's still waiting for_ _me._

 _But_ _once_ _I_ _turn_ _around_ _the_ _corner,_ _and_ _hit_ _the_ _road_ _leading_ _towards_ _Kana's_ _house,_ _I_ _hear_ _a_ _man and two women arguing. The man's voice is completely unfamiliar to me, but I recognize the women; I recognize them all too_ _well._

 _The_ _older_ _and_ _black-haired_ _woman,_ _she's_ _just_ _staring_ _at_ _the_ _situation_ _like_ _a_ _deer_ _in_ _headlights;_ _her hands_ _shake_ _and_ _shudder_ _but_ _Kana's_ _mother_ _does_ _nothing_ _more_ _but_ _scream_ _and_ _beg_ _and_ _plead._

 _Kana_ _is_ _standing_ _between_ _her_ _and_ _the_ _man_ _screaming_ _at_ _them,_ _trying_ _to_ _get_ _him_ _away_ _from_ _her, away_ _from_ _the_ _both_ _of_ _them—shouting_ _Leave_ _my_ _mother_ _alone!_

 _The man is tall and bald and wears a basic but nonetheless fancy suit. He's shambling like he's drunk_ _and_ _his_ _voice_ _certainly_ _sounds_ _slurred,_ _but_ _there's_ _a_ _viciousness_ _in_ _the_ _things_ _he_ _says_ _and_ _the threats he makes—_ You think you people are worth all this trouble!? _he laughs, he laughs so smugly and so violently_ , _Can't even stand the sight of you_ _whores._

 _The man is growling things at Kana and she's trying to get away from him, he's laughing and snickering_ _and_ _his_ _face_ _is_ _all_ _red_ _from_ _the_ _liquor_ _but_ _he's_ _still_ _tall_ _and_ _strong_ _and_ _clearly_ _not_ _in_ _his right_ _mind._ _He's_ _grabbing_ _her_ _arm_ _he's_ _saying_ _all_ _sorts_ _of_ _things_ _to_ _Kana,_ _whispering_ _in_ _her_ _ear._

 _I_ _am_ _running_ _to_ _Kana_ _and_ _I_ _see_ _the_ _man_ _and_ _I_ _need_ _him_ _to_ _get_ _off_ _of_ _her,_ _he_ _can't_ _be_ _anywhere_ _near her, he's not supposed to do this to her, Kana's begging for help, Kana's screaming now but her mother is basically in shock so she does nothing, no one does anything, no one is willing to help her_ _but_ _me_ _and_ _she's_ _getting_ _hurt—she's_ _aggravated_ _at_ _the_ _man_ _and_ _she's_ _trying_ _to_ _push_ _him_ _off_ _of her,_ _away_ _from_ _her,_ _but_ _he_ _won't_ _listen_ _now_ _he's_ _grabbing_ _her_ _by_ _her_ _wrists_ _and_ _he's_ _pushing_ _her into an alleyway and she's screaming and screaming and begging for help as she's kicking and doing all she can to get away from his_ _grip—_

* * *

"The victim is Masayoshi Shido," says Goro Akechi, unveiling a photograph from the folder he brought with him. "He is somewhat popular among the people and had connections to several different organizations all over Japan.."

And then my eyes widen, and I say, "Did I... _kill_ him...?"

He looks at me, and he purses his lips as he says, "No. But...I would say you came rather close. Do you know why your mouth is bloody?"

I lift my hand to my mouth and I realize it is wet and I'm tasting iron. My tongue and my teeth are drenched in dried blood and I don't know why and I am scared again. I am wondering how this could be and I am shaking again and I can't help it anymore _I_ _have_ _to_ _know_ "What did I do to him?"

He cringes, "Do you really want to know...?"

"What did I do?" I ask, my hands shaking and aching and throbbing. "Please, I...I need to...what did I do...?"

He folds his arms and closes his eyes, "Your hand hurts, doesn't it? Meaning you gave the kind of punches you don't think about before you throw. There are bite marks on Shido's face, specifically

his right cheek, and the bites were strong enough to tear out considerable portions of skin. And the back of his head," he shakes his own head as he says, "I don't think I should say any more than what I have already."

"I think I'd remember _doing_ all that," I scoff.

"I'd say you were in a fugue state," he says. "Assuming you're telling the truth, that is." I look up at him, horrified at what he just said, but he continues on, "I know how cruel that must sound and how terrifying this must be. With what you've told me, you _may_ be sent to a psychiatric ward and at worst, you'll probably do time in juvie. So you have to keep on remembering. Shido's not exactly a major politician, but he still has enough connections to put you and your family at a loss. You have to know the stakes."

What have I done. What have I done. This is all happening so fast and I don't know how to stop it. Dad. Kana. Masako. What can I do? Am I dreaming? Is this all just some nightmare? This can't be. Before tonight I hadn't even thrown a punch.

This makes no sense at all. But I close my eyes regardless, I think back to just earlier in the evening, hoping to recall just what I did to this Masayoshi Shido person and wanting to believe my own innocence.

"Oh no," I say to Akechi. "I remember."

"You do...?" Akechi asks. "Please, do your best to recall. It may be difficult, but it's necessary."

"I...I...was walking down the road, I was supposed to meet with a friend, we were, we were going to Destiny Land together and I and then—and then I saw _him_. And I..."

* * *

_—and_ _before_ _I_ _know_ _it_ _I_ _hear_ _the_ _man_ _screaming,_ _and_ _I_ _feel_ _a_ _chunk_ _of_ _meat_ _in_ _my_ _mouth._

 _I am in the alleyway with him and Kana and my hands are throbbing. Red is running down the side_ _of_ _his_ _face_ _as_ _he's_ _screaming_ _madly_ _and_ _painfully_ _and_ _horrifically._ _My_ _hands_ _are_ _covered_ _in blood and I'm grabbing Kana by her own hand and pulling her out of the alleyway as the man shambles_ _out._ _He's_ _gripping_ _at_ _the_ _sides_ _of_ _the_ _walls_ _and_ _he's_ _looking_ _at_ _me_ _and_ _Kana_ _and_ _the_ _way_

 _he's_ _looking_ _you_ _wouldn't_ _think_ _he's_ _drunk_ _because_ _not_ _even_ _drunk_ _people_ _could_ _fill_ _as_ _much_ _hate_ _in their eyes as he_ _does._

 _He's_ _calling_ _us_ _brats_ _and_ _he's_ _proclaiming_ _how_ _he'll_ _sue,_ _I_ _get_ _in_ _front_ _of_ _Kana_ _and_ _thrust_ _my_ _arm out_ _to_ _guard_ _her_ _from_ _the_ _drunk_ _man_ _but_ _the_ _man_ _slaps_ _me_ _aside._ _The_ _force_ _of_ _the_ _hit_ _is_ _enough_ _to send me down and away from Kana and all I can think about is why is no one helping why is nobody_ _helping_ _why_ _is_ _no_ _one_ _coming_ _out_ _of_ _their_ _houses_ _to_ _help_ _us—_

 _I_ _think_ _of_ _grabbing_ _my_ _phone_ _and_ _doing_ _the_ _right_ _thing_ _and_ _calling_ _110_ _to_ _get_ _the_ _police_ _over_ _here as quickly as they can, so I dial the number and I call and I stammer and I tell them that my girlfriend_ _and_ _I_ _are_ _being_ _attacked_ _but_ _then_ _I_ _see_ _the_ _man_ _grabbing_ _Kana_ _by_ _the_ _neck,_ _grasping_ _her in_ _a_ _chokehold_ _as_ _he_ _slaps_ _her_ _once_ _across_ _her_ _face,_ _aggravated_ _and_ _enraged_ _and_ _screaming_ _like_ _a madman—_

 _Kana's mother smacks one of her shoes across his face and from his screams the heel's undoubtedly_ _hit_ _one_ _of_ _his_ _eyes._ _Kana_ _immediately_ _gets_ _out_ _of_ _his_ _grip_ _and_ _runs_ _into_ _the_ _arms_ _of_ _her mother and he's screaming more and more bloody_ _murder—_

 _And_ _then_ _I_ _sink_ _the_ _knife_ _into_ _his_ _leg._

 _Immediately_ _he_ _collapses_ _to_ _the_ _ground_ _kneeling,_ _he_ _whirls_ _around_ _to_ _face_ _me_ _and_ _tries_ _to_ _throw_ _a punch_ _but_ _he's_ _drunk_ _and_ _his_ _leg's_ _injured_ _so_ _the_ _instant_ _he_ _swings_ _he_ _just_ _ends_ _up_ _landing_ _face- first in the ground. He swears he'll kill us, he'll learn our names and have us sold off to some human_ _trafficker,_ _let_ _us_ _be_ _used_ _and_ _abused_ _until_ _our_ _bodies_ _run_ _dry—_

 _And_ _I_ _just_ _want_ _him_ _to_ _shut_ _up_ _so_ _I_ _kick_ _him_ _in_ _the_ _face_ _and_ _do_ _so_ _many_ _more_ _things_ _to_ _his_ _eyes,_ _his nose,_ _his_ _teeth,_ _the_ _gaping_ _hole_ _where_ _one_ _of_ _his_ _cheeks_ _used_ _to_ _be,_ _I_ _slam_ _his_ _head_ _over_ _and_ _over again_ _in_ _the_ _concrete_ _because_ _he_ _just_ _keeps_ _screaming,_ _he_ _keeps_ _screaming_ _and_ _I_ _want_ _him_ _to_ _stop I_ _need_ _him_ _to_ _stop,_ _I_ _keep_ _telling_ _him_ _to_ _stop_ _but_ _he_ _won't—_

 _By_ _the_ _time_ _I_ _can_ _see_ _again,_ _his_ _face_ _is_ _covered_ _in_ _welts_ _and_ _bruises_ _and_ _my_ _right_ _hand's_ _got_ _a_ _tooth stuck in one of its destroyed fingers. Police sirens ring out into the night, and two officers loom over me. Blood pools down from the back of Shido's head, and from every gaping hole in his deformed_ _face._

 _Why_ _does_ _Kana_ _look_ _at_ _me_ _the_ _way_ _she_ _does?_

* * *

Goro Akechi does not know what to say. His hand is shaking and his eyes are wide and he's trying so desperately to keep himself steady.

I then put a hand to my head as I finally fully realize, "It was like a dream...it was like...almost like I was somewhere else. You're sure I didn't kill him?"

"Doctors say he's lucky to even be alive. He's suffered considerable amounts of brain damage and, if he ever awakens from his coma, is unlikely to be fully functional ever again."

"Dear God," is all I can manage out. "What'll happen to me...?

"You have a chance at surviving court," Akechi says suddenly, nodding. "Don't worry."

"H-how...? Once info of this gets out..."

"Kana Kohaku, Asami Kohaku, and you were the only three people at the scene of the incident.

By the time bystanders arrived on-scene and officers dropped by, Masayoshi Shido was already bleeding," Akechi replied, rising from his seat and moving over to me. Placing his own hand on my shoulder. "Like I said earlier, you're likely going to be let off on self-defense. You and the Kohakus all gave the same story, giving credence to your claim that you attacked Shido to defend yourself and her."

"Kana, Kana where is she what's happened to her—?"

"She is fine," Akechi says, staring at me intently. "I told you already, she's in the station. You're panicking."

"He was hitting her and he wouldn't stop, if I didn't do a thing he would have—I can't go to jail, she has a daughter, I can't leave her I can't leave her behind not after what—"

"You'll gain sympathy with the jury," Akechi then replies, his tone assuring and warm. "You were defending your friend from a sexual assault. If my hunch is right, your case will end up just like those who were let off. You must stay calm."

"I...I...," I stammer and I shake and I put my head in my hands. I do not want to look at him anymore.

Akechi says, "Your father and your lawyers will arrive shortly. My job here is done. In my eyes I see that you are innocent, despite the brutality you displayed. The jury will only find you guilty if they have no conscience."

And soon enough my thoughts turn spiteful and indignant. "Her mother...?"

"She is here, too. Apparently she had attempted to flee from his car after some false accusations about money laundering, before her daughter and you came around. With luck, she'll be willing to testify your case. Seeing as you're underage, your identity will be kept secret. Though, considering the ramifications of this kind of case...that might be a little more difficult than usual."

I can't help but ask him: "Will they be okay?"

But as he puts his hands on the knob of the door, he says, "You won't leave them behind. You will see them again. That is a promise."

And he leaves me in my chair. Leaves me to myself.

And I realize something strange, something frightening, something horrific as I sit in my chair with my head in my hands and the smell of iron in the air of the room. I realize that my heart is not beating as quickly as it is out of _fear_. Something else.

I nearly puke all over the table right then and there, because for all the blood I've spilt and all the things I did to this Masayoshi Shido, the one thing I cannot deny is that despite everything that happened. Seeing him there, him and his butchered face, quieted and screaming, getting punched so hard his teeth were getting stuck in my hand...

It felt _good_.


	5. Blood on Your Hands

**12 / 10 / 2015**

When they close the door behind me, I'm greeted by the sudden onset of dark-grey clouds and thick sheets of rain.

Officers pull open the iron gate and I've nothing but my arms to shield myself from the rain. My father's car pulls up in the driveway and I rush in the backseat, absolutely drenched.

The drive is silent from that point on, as rain splashes harshly against the windows and thunder sounds off in the clouds.

Months ago the prosecutor decided that I had gone above and beyond what constituted as justifiable self-defense.

To her credit, she _did_ listen intently to my side of the story.

Kana's mother had been harassed by Masayoshi Shido over false accusations of money laundering; Kana, having heard what was going on, had rushed in to defend her mother. Shido, drunk and violent, had escalated the situation, and I had subdued him.

But she had also seen the files, the x-rays, the weapon I'd used, how much blood I'd spilt. Everything I had done to him. She brought up how he'd lost nearly a quarter of his teeth, how he was now blind in one eye, how I'd nearly destroyed vital nerves when I stabbed his leg, how if ever he would wake up he'd be stuck in a wheelchair at best—and in a vegetative state at worst.

In a vacuum, all these things would have pointed to this being an out-and-out assault, enough to have me tried as an adult.

So they took me to court.

When the evidence had been presented to the judges, they were more than a little queasy when reading through what I'd dealt upon Shido. Things only started really looking up when the only two witnesses willingly took to the stand. Kana & her mother vouched for me, and Kana herself was particularly emphatic when retelling the story, and was on the verge of breaking down more than once. But she'd regained her composure by the end of it all, enough to say plainly that "Nobody heard us."

Goro Akechi vouched that my story had matched Kana's. That the various bystanders he'd gotten to interrogate on the matter had either heard the incident take place and did nothing, or had arrived by the time I'd already bashed Shido's brains into the pavement.

On all accounts, I had defended Kana Kohaku and her mother from a violent assault.

But you don't just render someone, much less someone like Masayoshi Shido, comatose and walk off scot-free.

Cybers had very strong connections with media outlets all across the country. All Dad had to do was ask. They kept Kana and myself and her mother away from the public eye, which was all I could've asked for and more. It helped that I was still a minor; Japanese courts are big on discretion when it comes to juvenile offenders.

But all that said, I still have a stain on my record. A large, black stain that'll hound me 'til the day I die. At the very least, my identity and the identities of those close to me, were kept completely under lock-and-key.

 _"A_ _year_ _in_ _juvenile_ _detention,"_ the judges had decreed then. _"After_ _his_ _release,_ _he'll_ _be_ _assigned_ _a probationary officer until he turns twenty. It's also recommended for him to undergo regular therapeutic sessions and psychiatric_ _evaluations."_

It surprised me then that being thrown in jail, and being legally mandated to undergo therapy, didn't really faze me at all.

What got to me and still gets to me is the fact that, throughout the trial, Kana looked like she was dying inside. The fact that whenever their eyes would meet mine it was like they didn't even recognize me anymore. The fact that Masako on the other hand was always just darting her big round eyes every which way because she didn't know a thing.

The fact that Dad's expression never changed, even once, throughout the whole thing. I had barely even seen him _blink_.

That last day in court, Kana's mother and my father conversed for a very short while, and while I was not able to discern what they were saying over the bustle of the courtroom, the conversation didn't last very long and Kana—and I couldn't even talk to her, I couldn't talk with her, I couldn't even say a single word and as I was pulled out of the courtroom she kept looking at me like she didn't want me to go.

My left hand, the one I'd used to crush Shido's features, doesn't stop shaking the whole drive home.

.

.

.

* * *

**12 / 15 / 2015**

It's a few days later that Dad takes the time out of his busy work schedule to greet his son after his stint in jail. I am called to meet him in his study.

Dad is passionless when I see him sitting at his desk. There's a certain special kind of _cold_ in his eye the likes of which I've not seen before, so I suppose _that_ 's new.

Across from his desk I pull up a small wooden chair and the whole time he keeps his hands tented together and the way he looks at me it's almost as if he wants me to hate being alive.

"You wanted to see me?"

"You'll be moving schools next year," Dad says suddenly.

"What—?"

But before I can even get out the _What_ fully, he says, "Kishibaru's already requested you transfer. I've arranged for you to head to Shujin Academy, it's a bit deeper in Tokyo, but it's deep enough for you to keep a low profile. You'll be attending the eleventh grade again. You've been assigned to a man named Takuto Maruki. He'll be your probationary officer and psychiatrist. You have until April."

He knows what he's doing, like he always does. And I can't help but agree that this is the only option we can take.

But it doesn't make it hurt that much less.

"What, do you want _more_ time?" he scoffs.

"No."

"Don't look so sullen."

I rub my upper arm, "Can't exactly help that."

"Then try. It's shameful."

"Sorry that I'm such a shame to you, Dad."

"You never were." I narrow my eyes at him. "Do you think I _am_ ashamed of you?"

I recall his eyes, at the trial. He kept himself all stoic; back then, I could've sworn he was boiling inside. "Why wouldn't you be."

"You've done shameful things. But you're my son."

"Right, I'm _so special_ to you. So special you didn't even visit me once—"

"Did your _girl_ visit you, either?" I don't answer. "I suppose not."

He's completely right.

Kana hadn't visited me once throughout my stay. I've been messaging her since I've gotten back and have gotten virtually no responses.

"She defended you, in court. She was terrified the whole time. I saw how she was shaking. But she put herself out there anyway, just to give you a fighting chance. You should feel honored she was willing to go that far."

"Are you trying to comfort me?" I hiss.

"Take whatever _comfort_ you can get from that, if you can find it. The fact of the matter is that she's done much for you already. The both of you would be better off separated from each other."

"Y'know, you're probably right on that front."

She looked at me a certain way. That night, when I— _brutalized, tortured, violently assaulted, nearly murdered, rendered braindead_ —did what I did to Shido.

Most of the year I spent in my cell, I spent thinking of the face she wore then.

"Perhaps _this_ is of some comfort," he breathes. "I would've likely done the same thing to that man, were I in your shoes."

I narrow my eyes at him. "That's messed up, Dad."

"If I had seen him doing _that_ to your mother, I would've likely done worse."

"You wouldn't—that's crazy."

"No. It's evidence of sanity, more than anything else."

I chuckle, "Then why do they want me to go to therapy?"

"Because you could've slit his throat and been done with it. But you did so much more."

"I feel so stupid."

"What's done is done."

"Maybe therapy might actually be good for me," I clear my throat. "I..."

"You what?"

I sit up in my bed and face him, "I...that whole time...when I..."

"You what?"

"When I did what I did to Shido...I felt like I was somewhere else. Like I...wasn't even really there at all. Almost like I was dreaming."

He purses his lips. "Have you told anyone else this...?"

"Just that detective who questioned me. Akechi. Not even Kana knows."

He lays a hand on my back. "I'm sure it was just nerves. Considering what was happening..."

I turn to him and he stays silent, gives me space to talk. I nearly tell him how I had _really_ felt, bashing his skull into the concrete.

But before I can even say a single word my phone rings back.

Kana.

 _Are_ _you_ _free_ _today?_

I immediately get up off the chair and head towards the door—

"Are you going to see her?"

I whirl back to face him, "Of _course_ I am."

"She's trouble."

"Not for me."

"Especially for you," he grunts. "She was shaking at the trial because she was scared. Not because of the judges or the fact that she had to recount her trauma—it was because _you_ were in the same room as she was."

Old man who doesn't even emote, telling me what my girlfriend _felt_ towards me? "What the hell do _you_ know?"

"I know that if she weren't scared, she'd have visited you at least once."

"So why didn't _you_ visit me?"

"I was busy cleaning the mess you'd made."

"What?"

He shakes his head, "Go. Do whatever you'd like with this girl."

And I march out, refusing to look back at him even once.

I force myself to be confident and I tap a few buttons on my phone.

One ring. Two rings. Three.

_"Kazuya?"_

God, if You're there, thank you for letting me hear her voice again, at least for now. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

* * *

Kurogawa drives me there relatively quickly. I pay him for all his troubles and send him off back to Dad without a hitch.

She and I are in her room.

Like old times. Masako's snoozing away in her crib and she's gotten so much bigger since the last I'd seen of her. Pretty sure the wooden frames won't hold her, at this rate. Kana lets me peer my hand in, and I lightly stroke her small cheek with the back of my fingers.

"Has she been reading?" I whisper to Kana.

She lets herself smile, "We finished _The_ _Little_ _Prince_ a month ago."

"That's great," I smile back.

The two of us sit ourselves down upon the _kotatsu_ and I let myself get a better look at Kana. She's allowed her hair to become matted and bundled up, leaving her perpetually looking like she's just woken up. She's still wearing that red scarf, but honestly, I'd have been shocked to see her without it. She's somehow developed more freckles beneath her eyes, but if anything, that's a point in her favor.

"I'm sorry we didn't visit you."

"I get it," I shrug.

"Mom wanted us to lay low, I kept telling her we should visit at least once, but she—"

I look into her eyes, "It's fine."

She purses her lips, "You must've been frustrated, at least a little..."

"I missed you. But you're here now. _I'm_ here now."

"How...," she very nearly stammers over her words there, "how have you been? If you don't mind me asking...?"

And her eyes change. They shift. It's subtle enough that anyone unfamiliar with Kana's various expressions or inflections would likely miss it. But I see it, I see it clearly.

Why do you look like you're staring at a time bomb.

"Well," I scratched the back of my head. "Prison wasn't that bad, all things considered. I kept to myself, they kept to themselves. In that sense it didn't feel too different from school."

She nearly allows herself to laugh then, but she stifles it with a light smile. "Kinda dark of you to compare it to school, don't you think?"

I wince a little, giving a light smile of my own, "I suppose. But, well. I'm happy to be out, all things considered."

"I'm happy Mom finally allowed me to bring you back here," she nods. Though soon enough her expression turns sour. "How could they _do_ that to you...?"

"What?"

"Throw you in there for a year?" she grunts, gritting her teeth. "You didn't deserve it at all."

"How have _you_ been?" I cut in.

She shakes her head, " _Me_? What about—?"

"Prison's boring."

"Kazuya..."

"I want to know how you've been," I tell her firmly. "I've been very worried about you."

"I've been worried about you, too."

"Why?" I shake my head, my left hand trembling again— "I mean, I wasn't the one who—"

"But you _were_ the one who took the fall."

Damn it. That look. It's grown fiercer, more agitated. "Yes, but you—"

"You're the one who got thrown in jail for something that I—" she scowls. Her hands ball up into fists and they too begin trembling. "You didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve any of that. If anything, I should've been—"

"Why are you so concerned about _me_? _You're_ the victim in all this. If I hadn't done what I did, then he would've—!"

"But you shouldn't have to—!" she cries and stops herself.

And I take her shaking hands. "You know I couldn't just let him do that to you."

She looks like she's on the verge of tears. She won't even face me. But she doesn't take my hands off of hers.

"You scared me."

"I did?"

"The whole time...as you beat him down, into the pavement. You were smiling."

"I was?"

"You were."

I recall how it had felt to see his blood pour on the hot concrete. His twisted and bloated features. His teeth mangled and stuck in my hand. "I was."

"You saved me and my mother," she continues. "I'll never ever forget that. But..."

"But what?"

"I saw you then. I saw what you were _doing_ , what you looked like. I thought that you'd...changed," she says. "When I saw you, it was almost like you weren't even..."

She doesn't want to say. She keeps her eyes groundward, away from me. But she remains close, never tries pushing me away.

I cup her cheek and have her face me. She won't look at me, but she won't turn away, either. "I'm still here. Right in front of you."

She purses her lips, "I got all this blood on your hands."

"No, _I_ did," I grab her by the shoulders, have her face me. "I chose to do what I did."

"Why, why would you—?"

God damn it, "Kana."

"I nearly made you a murderer—"

"What did I tell you about blaming yourself?"

"My mother threw herself in with Shido because I couldn't get enough money for Masako on my own," she puts her hands over her eyes, "that whole thing, right there, all of that would never have happened if I hadn't, if I'd never—if I'd-"

"If what?"

"If I hadn't been so stupid and careless-"

"What are you even-?"

"I-I almost, I almost, you don't even know, I-" she's shuddering, grinding her teeth, the tears are pouring endlessly, "you don't even _know_ me and you nearly _killed_ someone for me-"

"Kana, please, I-"

Suddenly I hear a wailing noise come from the crib. Masako's crying out now, crying like her mother; Kana's covering her face with her hands and the more she cries the louder she raises her voice.

My left hand trembles as I try to keep Kana close to me, unable to think or do or say anything at all that could possibly try to calm her down, I'm adrift as my head tries to point to a million different things I can try just so that they stop crying, please stop crying, God make them stop crying-

Suddenly the words hit me. All the right words I could possibly say. I'm about to say them and I'm willing to hope that she listens, even for a little bit.

Then the door swings open with such force that it hits the wall with a _bang._

Kana and I turn.

Someone's standing in the door frame and for a few moments I'm unable to recognize her at all. Her hair is frayed, so wild and unkempt it completely covers her face. She's holding a kitchen knife in their hands and her movements are jerky, harsh, shambling. She's wearing a white nightgown and blood's pouring from her wrists, upon the wooden floorboards.

When she trudges into the room she does so with her arms limply hanging downwards. Her whole upper body is arched forward as though she's hunchbacked; yet when she raises her head to the light of Kana's room, her hair sweeps back and we see her-

"M-Mom...!?"

Kana's mother lets out an inhumane growl, her eyes having rolled so far back into her head that I can no longer see her pupils.

Kana's mother raises the knife and when she does her dangling arms tighten their joints- she makes a sweeping, slashing motion as she screeches, I push Kana away from me and we just barely dodge the knife.

Kana's mother just keeps screaming and won't stop. She grabs Kana by the hair and Kana's screaming too, raising her hands and crying out _Mom_ _why_ _are_ _you_ _doing_ _this_ _Mom_ _please_ _Mom stop dear God Mom what are_ _you-!?_

She throws Kana to the ground and begins stomping upon her face, the knife still in-hand, and she's howling madly like a dog and Masako's still bawling.

"Get off her," is the only thing I manage to say before I black out.

By the time I can see again I've slipped my hands under the madwoman's arms but she has the strength of a man possessed-she tears herself away from my grip and whirls around and I see her, I see her goddamned eyes, I see the veins popping in her sclera and the whites have turned into reds themselves.

Something searing and hot runs through my shoulder and I scream-when she tears the knife from my shoulder she doesn't even give me a second before she sends it into my guts and uses her weight to send us careening down upon the kotatsu, which buckles and breaks in two upon impact.

And she raises the bloody knife up into the air and her screams turn into laughter, streams of blood running down from her eyes and her wrists and smattering all over-

She brings it down and I've just enough strength to grab her hands and keep the knife half an inch away from my _left_ _eye-_

_"Kazuya!"_

I tell Kana to _"Get_ _Masako_ _the_ _hell_ _outta_ _here!"_ because my shoulder hurts so much and my guts are bleeding and I'm gonna die, I'm absolutely gonna die here but Kana & Masako have to be safe.

She's frozen in place for one, maybe two seconds, but she returns to her senses at just the right time. She wraps the still crying Masako in her little blankets and the two of them run, run past me and her mother.

So she tears her arms away from my grip and she raises the knife again, about to plunge it into my guts for a second time.

But a loud _KRRSH_ rips through the air, because Kana's just smashed a small flowervase into her mother's face.

Kana's mother agonizes because she's got a faceful of ceramic and blood pouring down her forehead and her eyes. I'm too delirious to even hear what Kana's saying but she stretches out her hand and I take it and we run out the door as Kana's mom charges-

Before she can get us we rush out into the hallway and slam the door shut. We press our arms against the door to keep her from barging through but she keeps ramming herself against it, her howls growing more and more enraged. Kana's mother keeps screaming, I hear _thumping_ noises,

she's trynna stab through the door but the wood's too thick, she won't be able to get us not nearly soon enough.

"Mom, dear _God_ would you just stop!?" Kana cries out, "Mom, please...!"

Masako just keeps crying, sitting in the hallway and watching us try to keep her grandmother from killing us, so I tell Kana, "Get a chair and prop it up against the doorknob."

"O-okay...!"

The second she lifts her hands away from the door her mother _rams_ herself into it again and the force _breaks the goddamned doorknob, breaks it into pieces-_ " _Damn_ _it!_ "

We both push back against the door again, ramming it back in kind.

She's running on adrenaline or something. We can't move. We can't budge away. The second we do she's going to grab at least _one_ _of_ _us_ and stab us to death, and as I hear her screams howl off into the night and hope to God someone's calling the cops, I look at Kana-

She's terrified and crying and trying so hard to keep everything together, Masako won't stop bawling either, their faces are completely red and their eyes are swollen and if God could grant me one wish it's that I could get the strength to do to Kana's mom what I did to Shido-

Before either of us knew it, the pounding, the thrashing against the door had stopped itself. "Kana?"

"M-Mom...!?"

"Kana, what's...happening...?"

"Wh-why am I even...? Oh God, what did I do...!?"

"M-Mom-!"

"We can't open the door," I tell her.

"Mom, what the hell just happened...!?"

"Call 110," I tell Kana, "while we can, call 110 _now!"_

"My phone's in the room with her...!"

" _Landline_!" I shout. "You have one downstairs, don't you!?"

"I can't just _leave you_ _here-!"_

" _She_ _stabbed_ _me_ _in_ _my_ _stomach_!" I shout at her, and her eyes dart to my bleeding guts and my wounded shoulder and she's _horrified_ , "It's only a matter of time before I-"

"Kana, what's happened!?" her mom shouts from the other side, "I-I, why am I covered in blood-!?"

"Get you and Masako out of this house _NOW!"_

 _"Please,_ _K-Kazuya_ _open_ _this_ _door,_ _I'm_ _begging_ _you!"_ her mother cries, "What did I just do!? Where's Masako!? Please, _please_ _tell_ _me_ , what have I done!? Kana, please, oh God I'm so sorry, _what_ _did_ _I_ _just_ _do_!?"

"M-Mom...I...!"

"Did I hurt any of you!? I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean it...! It wasn't me, I swear! _Kana,_ _Kazuya_ _please open this_ _door!_ "

"Just get her out of here, get her out of here Kana," I beg and plead and hope to God she listens.

Kana's eyes grow hazy, almost like she's about to faint. But though her hands tremble and her knees bend close and she wants me to come with her more than anything, she knows what she has to do next. Though she bundles Masako up in her arms she looks at me all the while.

I just nod, and with that she whirls around and runs to the staircase, Masako buried in her chest-

"For once in your life could you just be useful and open the goddamned door _YOU_ _STUPID LITTLE_ _WHORE_ — _"_

—I remember too late that the crib inside the room has wheels.

The door flies open from the force as the crib bursts into wooden frames and splinters. I'm sent to the floor and I see her, she grabs me by my hair and I'm about to cry, I'm begging her, begging her to just stop, she's killing me, she's _going to kill_ _us_ —

Something pierces my midsection and the cut is deep and the slice is wide. My legs give way and I clutch my guts because they're rushing out my stomach in a flood of red.

I'm gasping for air but I hear sirens coming, I'm crawling along the floorboards as red gushes down, I'm going to die, I'm literally dead, every time I try gathering my entrails in, the more I press my hands against the wounds, the more I feel the blood lapping down, down, down.

Soon enough I hear Kana and Masako crying louder and louder, I can't get it out of my head the sound of her weeping is crawling into my eardrums and I can't get it out of my head and I want it to stop I want it to stop and Kana's begging and pleading, crashing and thrashings and loud hammering noises—

So I crawl, as blood pools out, my hand feebly keeping everything in for just a little while longer. But I've only enough energy to make it to the banister.

From there I see them, in the living room of their house. Kana's desperately trying to escape but her mother's blocking the front door.

I see furniture trashed and thrown about; picture frames shattered all across the floor. Little tables broken into pieces, books torn to shreds. Plates, bowls glasses, and utensils shattered into pieces across the kitchen floor. Wallpaper knifed at and ripped open, walls broken into.

Kana has to keep moving, keep moving or she'll die, keep moving or _her_ _mother_ _will_ _kill_ _them_ _like she's_ _killed_ _me_ but before she can move anymore Kana's mother drops the knife and tears Masako away from Kana.

Masako's crying and crying louder and louder and I can't get it out of my head the sound of her weeping is crawling into my eardrums and _I_ _can't_ _get_ _it_ _out_ _of_ _my_ _head_ _and_ _I_ _want_ _it_ _to_ _stop_ _I_ _want it_ _to_ _stop_ _and_ Kana's begging and pleading, "No, no Mom no please why are you doing this—" but to no avail because right before her eyes Masako's body falls like a boulder.

Masako stops crying.

Kana immediately dashes for her daughter, screaming madly and violently and howling in horror, but she's held back—and Kana's mother just punches her in the eye and the punch is enough to send her to the ground. She continues punching over and over again, and the punches are all hard enough to make that unmentionable wet _crunch_ you'd get when bone hits pavement. By the end of it Kana's face is swelled and purpled, and she's fading-she spurts out blood from her purpled lips, crying out blood and tears from puffed-up eyes that can't even open.

Her mother rises to her feet-hands now splintered with bone, fingers mangled, blood all over her clothes-her eyes are the deepest shade of blood-red and she's letting out this groaning noise that I will never ever forget, for it sounds like a demon's inside of her trying to claw its way out through her mouth.

The last thing I hear is a wailing woman, crying out in unknowable terror over what she's done to her own family. Her cries last the whole night, even as she brings the knife down on her own grandchild, and turns the whole living room red.

.

.

.

* * *

**12 / 17 / 2014**

I awaken to a beeping noise, and an oxygen mask on my face.

It's a small room, with a pale cream shade painted over the walls. There's a very sterile sort of smell.

"You're awake…"

I see my father sitting next to the bed, wearing a thick overcoat and sporting dark circles under his eyes. He rises up the second I turn to face him, but before I can even speak to him I feel something in my torso burn and ache like it's been struck by a hammer—

And I let everything come to me—when it does , it hits like a truck. My memories begin pouring back and I'm left terrified and shaking I feel right about ready to cry, I shudder and scream with spikes in my guts that grow larger the more I try to produce sounds, and I see _my_ _father—_

"Just, just stop for a _second_ —"

—he's pushing me back into the bed trying to get me to calm the hell down, and his goddamn face doesn't even budge an inch, but I can't care I can't even look at him, he doesn't even _matter_ now—Kana's here, somewhere, bleeding and broken or quite possibly dead and I need to see her—

As my breaths heighten I feel an unstoppable urge to just throw myself out of this bed I'm stuck in and try to find Kana, I nearly tell my father to stop holding me back because I need to find her, I need to help her, she's dead—she's dead, Masako's dead, her mother killed them both and I _couldn't do a single goddamned thing_ _to—_

"Hikawa-san, stop!" I turn.

I see that detective who had aided me, all the way back in my trial. He moves himself closer to the bed, still seated in his chair, and speaks to me. "You were very lucky. Doctors had said you'd lost a good amount of blood, there. But you have to rest now."

And I try speaking to him, but when I try to make a sound I feel my midsection catch _fire_ —

"Don't try to talk!" he says, brushing past my father as he tries to force me to stay in bed. "If you talk, you'll aggravate your wounds—"

" _Where—"_ is all I can manage, and I feel as though my throat's bleeding as I try— " _Where_ _is she!?"_

"You have to calm down!"

 _How_ _the_ _hell_ _can_ _you_ _expect_ _me_ _to_ _be_ _calm?_

Is the question that makes itself clear on my face. Neither my father nor Akechi budge. So Akechi grabs both my shoulders. "Kana Kohaku is alive."

And tears stream down my eyes right then and there. I nearly break out into a smile if not for the memory of her mother, of Masako, and I want to ask him about what had happened, if what I dreamt was just a dream, if all that carnage and violence had never actually happened and it was something I made up in my sick messed up little head—

So I grab him by the arm and I beg and I plead, "Masako. Please."

He doesn't say anything back, because he doesn't need to. He just closes his eyes and lowers his head.

.

.

.

* * *

 **12** **/ 20 / 2014**

Kana's eyes are black and there are bandages covering her arms and her legs. She is saying the same thing over and over again, something I almost don't understand because she's speaking in a tone of voice that's makes whispers sound like screams. She's barely moving, she's sitting up and staying still and she looks almost like she's died in this position.

She is not even looking at me, she's looking at her hands. Looking at her hands through eyes so puffed up she most likely shouldn't be able to see. Her hospital gown is covering so many more wounds, I'm sure. I motion to hold her, to take her in my arms and embrace her, _because_ _what_ _else can_ _I_ _do?_ but then she shirks away from me almost immediately, grasping at her upper arms and breathing heavily as she's shaking and shuddering.

She's shuddering and she wants to cry and my hands are throbbing and I want to cry and I just want to hold her, I just want to talk to her, I just want her to _smile_ because I know she never will again, not after this.

But then as I feel a hand on my shoulder, I hear what Kana's muttering and somehow someway I find myself able to understand it, despite it not being loud enough to register on any human frequency at all.

"I am a curse."

When we return to my room I write to Goro Akechi everything that had happened. But as I write to him more and more, I begin crying and I can't stop the tears but I _keep_ _on_ _relaying_ _details_ because that's what I do when I'm scared or sad all the details just rush in my brain and I take all of it in and I need to get it all out before it eats at me from the inside and I choke and weep and bawl my eyes out.

While I'm crying, Akechi lays a hand on my back to try and soothe my nerves in at least some fashion-but I can't stop crying because Kana's dying inside and Masako's already dead and I saw all of it happen and couldn't stop it at all, weak and useless and wretched and damned.

There will be no justice to be had here. There is no trial because there is no one who can be prosecuted.

Kana's mother had plunged the knife into her heart before police arrived on the scene.

My father's expression is as cold and dispassionate as ever. But even as I lay myself into bed he never leaves my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah the Blood and Gore/Blood and Violence tags aren't just for show. And there's a lot more where that came from.


	6. Mystery, the Whore of Babylon

**12 / 23 / 2015**

We're all still wounded and bruised but we recover enough of ourselves to cremate what's left of Masako. I attend it with her, as does my father. She doesn't let us see what happened to Masako's body at any point.

It takes hours but by the time it's over Kana tells me she doesn't want to go back to her house.

My father, in all his generosity, allows her to stay at our place 'til she's able to arrange things with her relatives. The ride back home is silent because how could it be any other way? Kana just keeps her bandaged face peering out the window and she doesn't give me a single glance, not once through the ride home.

When we reach the house she holds my hand as I walk with her up to my room. The moment we enter, I sit her down on the bed and she lets go of my hand as she begins to stare at nothing. She doesn't even _lie down_ , she just sits there and stares. Every now and again I see her eyelids twitch or her fingers shake, but for the most part she's just stationary. Like a doll.

We sit by each other's side in my room for the next few hours or so, and when we reach midnight she sinks into my bedsheets. I turn to look at her, and I see her scooch over just a little, allowing for some space on the bed.

I slip into the sheets with her, just as tired as she is. She's unable to look at me, so it's up to me to move the strands of black hair away from her face. I can still see the green of her eyes through the darkness and through the bandages, and even when she agonizes I can't help but find her beautiful.

I pull her close and she does not push me away. We do nothing more than stay with each other, in a close embrace. And we stay this way the whole night through, managing to sleep only when dawn breaks.

* * *

I awaken mere minutes later, in the cathedral again.

It is in flames. Standing in the midst of the flailing white-hot fires is a man with golden hair and a purple suit, the candelabrum burning brightly in his hand. The bleeding stone statue now bears a head with my face. A horrified expression frozen upon its features, it bleeds from its blank white eyes, its small nostrils, its gaping mouth.

A man with golden eyes and a purple suit stands amidst the flames, untouched and unburnt. He carries a candelabrum in his right hand and his expression is blank. His eyes, however, lock directly upon me.

In this flaming cathedral I stand before him and let nothing else matter. For as hot as the fires burn and as wild as they rage, the cathedral does not crumble into cinders.

What do you want with _me_? Who are you?

"I am you," he says. "I am everything that you are, and perhaps more."

That makes no sense.

"You faced your iniquity and in doing so, you called upon me. I arrived, from the sea of thy soul. But I suppose my existence is not where your concerns actually lie," he approaches, candelabrum still burning brightly in-hand. "You and I seek the same thing. I have come here to offer you a pact."

A pact?

"Do you believe in a god? Do you bear faith in any religion?"

No.

He chuckles. "You should not be so quick to say so. Faiths, religions, beliefs, and archetypes...these stories have flooded the minds of humanity for millennia. Yet in and of themselves, these tales end up creating beings that are unto themselves larger than life, larger than understanding."

What does this have to do with anything?

He encircles me, the candelabrum ever close to fraying my face and hair—

"There is a Sea, beyond this world; a Sea of Souls. Within this Sea, creatures borne from the minds of men thrive. Some of them manifest themselves through individuals blessed with a connection to the Sea. Others are born of a collective _will_ of the masses, forged out of a need for reason and singular truth. Many of the beings touted as gods, spirits, demons, and angels—all of them are made manifest in this realm. Emanations of humanity's unconscious, bred life and power."

I scoff, glaring at him though the flames on the candle wicks.

You're telling me Kana's mother was demon-possessed, or something?

"Oh, ye of little faith," he laughs, "after everything I've shown you, you still doubt? The girl's mother; you must be wondering what made her mad. Does the thought not eat away at you?"

I remember the carnage and my guts shrivel up from all the blood and horror. How could something _make_ that happen?

"Very likely some _one_ ," he says. "It's probable that it's someone with the power to drive men mad and cause minds to crumble. A power given unto him by a god."

I very nearly grab the candelabrum and use it to smash his face in, because he's said so many things without actually telling me anything.

In my stress and fear and general disbelief I can only mutter that he must be insane.

"I'm only as sane as you are."

I laugh then, genuinely—I give a big, hearty, nigh-maniacal laugh that lasts far too long.

Alright then. Might as well go the whole nine yards, if I've already gone mad.

So tell me: who could possibly be so petty as to want to attack me and my girlfriend directly? If this person has the power of a god, why would he waste it on killing some random family literally _nobody in the country but me_ even cares about?

"Perhaps they didn't do anything to earn his ire. Maybe it's on you."

And I realize.

The man whose skull I crushed on a pavement must've had a lot of friends in high places.

Long ago, on a dark night, I rescued two women from a raging drunkard who tried to have his way with them. I beat him, battered him, practically tortured him on a sidewalk. But this man was hardly ordinary in himself; Masayoshi Shido was a politician.

I recall what Goro Akechi had said to me, that night he interrogated me: "You've made enemies in very high places."

I raise a hand to my head and shake and tremble, nearly tearing out a section of my hair right then—for, the most terrible thing that could ever be is that this strange, piercing man is telling me the truth and that all this madness might somehow be my fault.

This all must be some mad dream.

I'd rather have gone insane than believe any of this is true.

"I have given you a great and terrible power; one that can call upon the Gods themselves. With it you can burn the planet to cinders or raise it to the highest Heavens."

I don't want _any_ of that—I've never wanted _any_ of this—

"Who would ever want any of this? But if you wish to save that girl, then you must venture into her heart. With the power I've given you, you'll almost certainly be able to rescue her."

From what?

"The hole in her chest that was once her heart. The Navigator is already in your phone. It is a matter of time before you make your choice."

No. Explain to me.

What are you? Where am I? Why am I here, and what is this power that you're telling me you've given me?

Why did you even come to _me in the first place_...?

"Out of every human that has ever lived, you are perhaps one of the very very few to have ever truly sought what _I_ seek as well. You bear a desire so strong it has manifested into the walls that surround us; weaker men would have suppressed this desire, or at the very least denied its reality. But you seek it, you crave it so strongly that the only thing stopping you is the demands of the world around you."

What could you and I possibly have in common?

"A desire for freedom."

Freedom?

"Your country and its people are all participants in a wretched game, run by humanity's blind madness. This game will not only determine your future but perhaps that of the whole world. As it stands, this realm is on the brink of ruin—only those willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of their freedom have a chance of crashing against the tide."

You say that you are me.

If so then what does that say about me?

Who the hell are you?

All of a sudden there is a black light that destroys the whole world, breaking it apart and tearing it asunder, the sky goes from red to white and the ground starts rumbling and breaking apart at my feet, the world starts shattering like glass though it's made of stone and soil and there's a horrible horrible noise that sounds like babies drowning to death, being drowned by their mothers and their fathers, then I recognize it as the last sound Masako ever made ringing in my ears a thousand times—

The world is dark and empty and cold and I see nothing yet I see _everything_. The burning cathedral breaks into a million stones, and the fires fade into nothingness as all I see from beyond the broken church are bones littering the streets and giant skeletons hanging overhead. The sky is raining dark red, red like blood, red like Kana's scarf. People are disappearing as they're running all over the place and screaming their heads off, wanting someone to save them, their bodies are fading out and they want to live yet they don't want to at the same time.

The man I see before me has transformed into something impossible to describe, all sorts of alien geometries and indescribable shapes bending into each other and being absorbed into themselves. The creature is blaring out noises that sound like the cries of people burning in an eternal lake of sulfur and it is blaring out these noises through things that look like pores but they slither like snakes and they thrive like anemone.

There are colors I never knew existed, worlds I never knew existed, words that I never want to repeat being rammed into my ears, and unrelenting sensations that cause my heart to pound through my ribs and my insides to freeze over. I am trembling now, and I am on my knees, and I'm covering my head with my hands and closing my eyes because I don't wanna see it I don't wanna hear it I don't wanna know it even exists but I do and I do and I never can stop knowing it exists.

A creature whose arms could span an entire cityscape; his body is unto itself a nation, and it is darker than even the blackest night. His horns scrape against the heavens, his six wings consume the red skies, and the whole world raises its arms for him in both adulation and terror. His red eyes pierce through me and my very essence and I sit there.

And I realize that those large, red, unblinking eyes are in truth mine.

When I wake up I feel like I ought not to sleep again for the rest of my life.

.

.

.

* * *

**12 / 24 / 2015**

I end up treading down the stairs and I see Kana again, sitting on the couch of the living room. She's not even on her phone, meaning she either finished talking to her relatives or just never got started at all. She's just sitting there and staring and her eyes are dead and I'm afraid if I say anything to her, she'll just break then and there.

But what's the alternative?

"Kana."

My voice is husky and gravelly; still haven't gotten used to my cut throat and honestly rather lucky to be as articulate as I still am. The doctors told me to keep my mouth shut as much as possible, to mitigate any reopening wounds. Indeed it hurts like hell just to talk but I've _got_ to. I want to talk to her with my own voice, as much as I can.

Slowly, she turns. She doesn't really _emote_. She just…stares at me, and nods a little.

"Your dad's out working."

Warily I make my way to her and sit beside her, on the couch. I lay my hand on hers and she doesn't pull away. She keeps her eyes firmly to our clasped hands, as though refusing to face me again.

"They don't want me," she says.

"What?"

"My relatives. They don't want me."

" _Why_?"

"Mom was…never too close to any of them. She told me that once they called me a 'leftover.' I hoped that by calling them I'd learn if Mom was actually telling the truth or not. She was."

"That's horrible."

Meekly she nods, "…yeah."

Still. She's not looking at me. Though if she's as scared of me as I think she is, then I suppose I can't blame here.

"You wanna head back upstairs?" I ask her.

She shakes her head and leans into me, "Please stay for a little longer."

"As long as you want."

I can feel her smile lightly—a sad, painful sort. "We both know that's not possible."

"Kana."

"You're leaving."

"No, I'm not."

"You'd be crazy not to."

I grab her by the shoulders, "Crazy would be leaving you here, alone."

"Your dad already told me he'd—"

"I'll tell him otherwise."

"You can't just _go back_ to school. Not after the trial or any of—"

"I'm not leaving you."

"I can make my way around," she huffs, almost angrily, "I've been around the block more than you."

"Do you _want_ me gone?" I ask her.

"No," she grunts, "No—I, I don't—I don't know. I don't know, but I know you shouldn't be anywhere near me—"

" _Should_ n't be?"

"You're not obligated to be with me," she says in the coldest, most unfeeling tone of voice. "You're not her father. I've got it set up already—you remember Mitsuko? From the Big Bang Burger joint—she's, she's willing to let me stay with her, so you—you don't have to waste your time-"

"You can come with me," I tell her.

"I shouldn't," she says again, keeping her head down like she didn't even heard what I said.

"You can come with me," I say again. "Wherever I go. I can arrange things."

"You're not her father," her head sulks. She's shaking now, trying to force all these words out, "you never were. It's not your responsibility. I'm leaving. You're leaving. We can't be together," she finally says, and it hits like a brick to my chest. "Not after all this."

But still I say, "I'm not gonna abandon you."

Then she whips her head up and glares at me, looking like she hates me, like she's had enough of me, like she wants me gone as soon as possible—and perhaps she really, truly does. "Yes, you are. In a few months you are. And you'll never talk to me again, not after this, because why would you, what is here for you?"

"Because I meant every word I said to you, when I told you I liked you," I say to her.

The cold ice of her expression quickly thaws thereafter, and when she tilts her head down she speaks like she's got cobwebs in her esophagus, "You meant every word?"

"Every word," I tell her, moving closer to her.

"And you're not gonna take it back?" she asks, not looking at me yet not pushing me away.

And I tell her, "Never."

"I'll kill you one of these days," she grumbles through gritted teeth. Tears stream down her eyes as she says, "Being with me will kill you."

"You won't," I draw her closer. "You won't."

"I'm a curse," she growls, burying herself in my chest, "I've always been a curse."

And I just let her empty herself out. In seconds I see myself, holding her in an embrace, looking upon us from the ceiling. The numbness in my head lasts for hours, long after she ends up falling asleep in my arms.

* * *

By the time I catch myself, I learn that it's evening. 6:00 PM. Kana's still sleeping soundly, somewhat peacefully in my arms.

During all this one word rings in my head—I recall it firmly from the man in the dreams whose name I refuse to speak.

Navigator.

Navigator.

Navigator.

A red, unblinking eye had appeared in my phone the night everything went to hell, those many many months ago.

The man in my dreams had apparently stuffed it right in there, which leads to a whole host of questions I'm almost afraid to ask. But the man pointed to the possibility that perhaps what had caused Kana's mom to go mad was could've been caused by _someone_. As it stands there may be some credence to that claim yet.

As Kana sleeps in my arms I pull up my phone and begin searching.

I hope and I pray that perhaps my dreams are just manifestations of insanity, but I stop hoping and praying when I search on my phone for _anything_ similar to what had happened with Kana's mother.

This has been occurring for many months. The first documented case took place in September of 2013.

Ryuunosuke Kurosawa—former head of Japan's Special Investigation Unit—committed suicide by cop. In the middle of Yurakucho Station he, suddenly and savagely, began beating down random onlookers with his bare fists alone. Police attempted to apprehend him, but could not subdue him, and he had to be shot to death. He'd failed to kill anyone in his rampage, though two men were hospitalized, one woman was disfigured for life, and a child little above nine was irreparably crippled below the waist. Autopsy reports indicated his blood pressure and heart rate were consistent with those found in those who'd overdosed on Xanax—but he'd no trace of any drugs in his system at all.

October 25th, a similar incident occurred. Soichiro Kanzaki was an entrepreneur and a hard-worker who suffered a mental collapse, during a business meeting held at his house. He had simply got up from the meeting, ostensibly to go to the restroom. By the time he returned he had a butcher's knife in his left hand, whilst covered in blood. His infant child had been beheaded while fast asleep. With the knife he ended up killing two of his business partners, before ultimately coming to his senses. When questioned he recalled nothing of the experience. His wife committed suicide two weeks before the trial, and he followed her the day he was told of her death. He swallowed his own tongue.

Gonzaburo Takayama was a well-known yakuza boss who had been deemed virtually untouchable. So much so that rumors had even sprouted in papers concerning whether or not he had been bribing the police to turn a blind eye to his more unsavoury actions. On January 4th, 2014, he killed seven different members of his own gang with a pistol, before crippling five of them with his bare hands, and rendering eight more of them crippled or paralyzed with whatever else he had at the time. Cops overwhelmed him over the course of thirty minutes. It had been during a party, intended to celebrate his son Tanaka's birthday—the boy was relatively unharmed.

And many many _many_ more, much like this. Though they only seem to escalate in scope and scale; more recent mental shutdowns have been occurring on the road as of late. Drivers suddenly crashing into opposite lanes. Men in traffic getting out of their cars and smashing up the windows of other cars. Cement trucks driving off highways and crashing down upon people trying to make their way to underpasses.

But there is seemingly no rhyme or reason to any of it. Anyone from small tycoons to crime bosses to rural farmers to _janitors_ were suffering these mental collapses. Many of these people were found to have been out-and-out criminals, but others weren't guilty of any crimes at all, or at the very least had jaywalked _once_ in their lives.

Same description applied to all. Extremely high heart rate and blood pressure at the time of death. Sudden display of increased strength. Bloodshot eyes, veins in the sclera going so far as to explode. Always, _always_ going violent in a crowd of people.

But how.

How could anyone _cause_ such a thing?

Or maybe I'm wrong, again.

Maybe I'm just freaking out over things I can't control, like some goddamned conspiracy nut.

Maybe at this rate I'll end up doing something suicidally stupid and get myself and Kana in a whole 'nother world of hurt.

Maybe I deserve it. But she doesn't.

Sure enough I pull open the menu of my phone and I see it. That red icon.

At the very bottom of the screen. I hadn't bothered to have it deleted in all this time.

Looks like a bloated red eye glaring straight at me. Sclera riddled with bloody veins.

I click on the app, and my screen turns a bright red. The color stays for so long on my phone I'm almost afraid it caused my phone to hang, but surely enough letters start appearing.

They appear in a white, bold and thick Serif font that says plainly **「** **VORTEX WORLD NAVIGATOR** **」** **.** Just long enough for the red and the white to cause my eyes to bleed, then they cut abruptly to a screen that tells me:

**Humanity's hearts are bound by misery, torment, and the truth of meaninglessness…**

In the corner of the screen pops up a little black cartoon creature, one with a squid's head and six wings. It has four golden eyes and eight stubby little hands, four tentacles forming a beard under its bulbous head. Despite the grotesque details of design it looks like something drawn for Hello Kitty. It waves at me, its little eyes sparkling like a child's.

→ **Welcome to the Vortex World! Call me Nyarly!** the little creature jitters and makes a noise that sounds like a _biribiribiri_ , and the whole time its little eyes smile. **The human heart's a very confusing and scary place at times, but never fear! If you've got any questions, I'll always be here to answer 'em! Just click on the little squid on the upper-left hand corner, and I'll be right there in a jiffy!**

Suddenly three sets of words pop up, and Nyarly shrinks into a squid's head, going into the corner.

**Palace Ruler:  
Palace Location:  
Palace Distortion:**

The words can be entered in either vocally or through text; there's a blank line underneath all three labels. But I don't know what _Palaces_ mean or what _Distortions_ have to do with anything; all I can do was guess.

But if this has anything to do with helping Kana, protecting her from whatever has the power to drive men mad, I need to try anything. The police won't believe me, and no one else will.

I'm the only one who can do anything here, and now. If this _person_ is allowed to keep on freely driving people mad, then Kana and I aren't the only ones in danger. Perhaps I'm the only one who can stop him. Perhaps this is my first and last chance.

So I write the name _Kana Kohaku_ in the blank line underneath all three.

**Palace Ruler Confirmed**

What?

**Palace Ruler: Kana Kohaku  
Palace Location:  
Palace Distortion:**

None of this makes any sense at all. I don't know what Palaces are, and how their location could be a _person_. And what does it mean by distortions?

"To hell with it." I click the squid's head.

→ **Hiya there!** Nyarly says, making happy little digital chirps. **Got anything to ask?**

I make sure to get up off the couch and make my way to the restroom nearby. Of course I adjust Kana to ensure she's not disturbed.

She shouldn't have to deal with any more of this.

Suddenly multiple folders pop up as Nyarly gestures to each; I don't have time to go through them all, so I pick the one I find might immediately answer my questions.

 **「** **What is a PALACE?** **」**

→ **A** **PALACE** **is a place born in the human heart, one that manifests as a result of DISTORTION!  
**→ **When your heart's DISTORTED you see everything in ways most people can't even imagine.  
**→ **A PALACE is your own personal little world, where everything in the REALM OF THE REAL is remade in your own image!**

 **To learn more, read** **WHAT IS DISTORTION?** ** & ** **WHAT IS A TREASURE?** **below.  
****To learn how PALACES can evolve, read** **WHAT IS A KINGDOM?** **below.**

And that's about all that explains itself. I shake my head and click the first link.

 **「** **What is DISTORTION?** **」**

→ **DISTORTION refers to strong negative or corrupt cognitions and beliefs. They all develop from the nasty things hidden in people's hearts!  
**→ **If a heart's DISTORTED enough, it'll see things in ways completely different from the average human, and create a TREASURE along with a PALACE.  
**→ **Of course, in this kinda world, you'd have to be crazy to not be a little DISTORTED! Nyahaha!**

 **Please read** **What is a TREASURE?, What is a PALACE?** ** & ** **What is a KINGDOM?** **to learn more.**

Okay. I've seen TREASURE pop up multiple times throughout this whole thing now.

 **「** **What is a TREASURE?** **」**

→ **Housed in a PALACE, a** **TREASURE** **is a manifestation of the desire which captivates a person's heart!  
**→ **A person's desire for something in the REALM OF THE REAL causes a TREASURE to take root, and the PALACE is formed from a person's COGNITIONS of the REALM OF THE REAL.  
**→ **But TREASUREs and PALACEs only flourish when a person refuses to acknowledge their DISTORTION.  
**→ **Humans are obsessive creatures! When someone really, really wants something, they ignore everything that could get in its way! Even if that thing were themselves! Nyahaha!  
**

**Please read** **What is a PALACE?** **,** **What is DISTORTION?** **, & ** **What is a SHADOW?** **if you want to learn more.**

Something tells me Nyarly's a bit of a misanthrope.

I find it in myself to click on one more thing.

「 **What is a SHADOW?** 」

→ **Nyahaha! A SHADOW is the best friend you could ever have!  
**→ **'Cuz they're you! All SHADOWs exist as a part of the human collective consciousness!  
**→ **If your heart's DISTORTED but don't wanna accept it, then a SHADOW forms in your heart!  
**→ **A SHADOW rules over your PALACE and draws other SHADOWs to it, too!  
**→ **The more DISTORTED your heart, the bigger and badder your SHADOW is!  
**→ **A SHADOW is everything you don't wanna see about yourself. Humans are cowards, so most people don't even know they have a SHADOW!**

 **To learn about what happens when a person accepts their SHADOW, please read** **What is a PERSONA?** **and** **What is a KINGDOM?** **to learn more.**

Of course all of this sounds like pseudoscience at best, produced only by either madmen or seventeen-year olds who know how to code and have way too much time on their hands.

Then again, what the hell does that make me? The whole reason I'm doing this is because someone in my stupid, extravagant, not-real-at-all dream told me to.

I recall something she said about herself, multiple times. She said this when I confessed my feelings for her. When she lay in that hospital bed, beside Masako. Helpless, painful mutterings in a tone of voice that made whispers feel like screams.

I write _Curse._

**No Candidates Found**

Huh. Kana thought of herself as a Curse. Thought for sure that would work.

At which point I type in _Asami Kohaku_. If the connotations of _Distortion_ are worth anything, then Kana's violent, murderous mother ought to be associated with it at least in some way.

**No Candidates Found**

I type in _Masako Kohaku_ , on a whim.

**No Candidates Found**

Okay, okay, okay. Location. Gotta be a place.

A place.

"Home."

**No Candidates Found**

God damn it, "Home of Kana Kohaku?"

**No Candidates Found**

Okay. If she's as screwed up as I think she is.

God damn it. Please be false.

"The world?"

**Candidate Found**

No. Why? _Why_?

**Palace Ruler: Kana Kohaku**  
**Palace Location: The World**  
**Palace Distortion:**

Distortion. Strong negative or corrupt cognitions. What could she possibly think of the world now?

"Prison."

**No Candidates Found**

"Purgatory?"

**No Candidates Found**

"Nightmare?"

**No Candidates Found**

Makes me sick to have to type goddamned _everything—_ "What the hell could it be?"

 **Palace Confirmed** **  
Would You Like to Enter?  
Y/N**

* * *

When I press _Y_ , the world turns red and black for just a few moments; just long enough for me to register that something big is happening. And after five or so minutes, I find that I've been transported somewhere else. Somewhere that drains my voice from my throat.

The world is surrounded in blankets of red-hot fire. I see thousands of people all around me, burning and suffering. Worms are eating at their skin even though their bodies have been cast in flame. Men, women, children, no one is spared. I see a little girl with glass in her eyes and she's crying for her mother, saying she can't see. I see pregnant women, crying out and giving birth to irradiated babies that are dead upon arrival. I see bloated corpses filling the streets, splattered bodies along the walls. I see some people running and even though these "lucky" few aren't burning, their flesh is melting off from the convection alone.

My feet plant themselves in the ground and I can't move. I want to run away and I want to hide away, I want to curl into a ball and just live inside of myself for the rest of my life but I can't, I can't, I have to _see it_ with my own two eyes, _hear it_ with my own two ears, it's not something I can ignore. It's not something I can refuse. In my dreams, I'll hear it scream and I'll remember it every day, for the rest of my life.

Something falls out from my hand and clatters upon the ground.

I don't know where to begin when it comes to describing the atrocity before me. But the first thing that comes to mind is that it is _tall_. Fifteen elephants tall, and twelve trailer trucks wide. Initially, I believe it is just a blindingly amorphous mass that's shambling in the dark, but I come to realize that there is _design_ to it after all.

The creature then turns and when it turns I realize it's turning its seven heads in my direction, turning its heads _to me_ , looking _at me_ , despite all the burning masses surrounding it, helpless before its unholiness.

And when the beast roars I see a bright red light forming in its mouth—its mouth that has a thousand green eyeballs in the walls of its gums and yellowed and rotted teeth that are filled with worms and insects and grime and pus—and the bright blue light is burning burning further burning stronger burning ever so brightly and it's pointed _at me I_ have to move it'll kill me it'll end me move your legs, it's, this isn't real, this isn't real at all, this has to be a dream someone tell me this is a dream, Akechi, Dad, Kana, where are you I need you _Kana_ —

"Hey! You!"

I whirl around me and I see—

A small little black creature with a tail. A big bulbous head, four times the size of its body. Burning yellow eyes as large as dinner plates, with two scruffy cat ears pointing out the sides of its head. A yellow bandana around its neck.

It leaps into the air and transforms suddenly into a massive black bus, a loud _MEOOWWW_ sound playing as it transforms.

"Get in the driver's seat if you wanna live!"

* * *

By the time I regain myself, I realize I'm sitting in the front seat of the bus that had once been a cat. And I am about a thousand miles away from where I'd been.

The kaiju-sized monstrosity rears its seven heads to the burnt skies and its hateful and blasphemous bellows can be heard loud and clear, even from where I am.

The creature has red flesh, like that of a skinned bull.

It has sixteen legs, eight on either of its sides, and each of its legs are like twenty-foot tall pillars of meat. Every time the creature lands one of its massive feet down, red spills from it like a winepress bursting open. Sprouting out from its back like shattered bone ripping through skin are a series of red rectangles I recognize as buildings; little yellow squares shining from each rectangle I see. Hanging from its underbelly appear to be fifteen thousand pairs of cow udders, all skinned and sagging and withered and pumping out blood, spilling it freely. The beast bears seven heads and ten horns, and a giant black swathe of hair covers each of its heads along with its massive tail.

And I see, I see someone atop the fourth of its seven heads. Though I am so very far away I see her ever so clearly, as though she were standing right in front of me.

Atop the fourth head stands a woman wearing a purple robe. Though her robes are thick the wind blows them open to reveal she's wearing nothing underneath them-—indeed, her body is skinned, leaving open and exposed her muscles and sinews and veins. In her arms she holds what looks like a lump of stone, wrapped in red linen.

She has Kana's face, with searing golden eyes.

My hands tremble and something wells up in the bottom of my guts—I get myself out the door and everything in my stomach charges right out from my mouth.

And yes, it hurts like hell to puke after having had _surgery on your stomach_.

"Ugh!" Suddenly the bus leaps into the air, shifting back into its catlike form. "If you're gonna puke, could you not do it so close to me? Geez…I got your breakfast on one of my paws!"

I glare at it and let out a bit of a scoff, and dear God my breath stinks to high heaven and a thousand questions rush into my head, I feel if I don't get answers in the next fifty seconds I'm just gonna bash my skull into a rock somewhere over and over again until I die.

"Hey, you're bleeding…!" it cries out.

And indeed, I am. A red line's forming out from the bandages in my stomach. And it _burns_.

But once the cat lays a paw on it, suddenly the pain fades. Just warmth and a little tingly feeling—I shudder a little and the bleeding's stopped, the pain's stopped, the everything's stopped.

"You'll be okay for now. We're lucky that creature's as slow as it is. It lost sight of us as soon as you drove us past all those buildings. It won't hurt us, all the way out here."

"…where the hell am I," comes out softly, desperately.

"It'll be…a little tough to explain. Right now, you just need to focus on getting yourself out of here."

"This is a…Palace, right…?"

It narrows its saucer-wide eyes, folding its arms, "Yeah. How'd you know that's what I call it?"

"I-I, my phone, an app—"

"An app?"

I pat my pockets and check everywhere on me or near me and it hits me like a hammer to my skull, "My phone's missing."

"Wait, so, you used your _phone_ to get here?"

"God, I don't know, how'd _you_ get in here!?"

"I-I just can! I don't need anything to get into Palaces."

"Then can you get me outta here?"

"I don't think so…"

" _WHY NOT!?"_

"Because I-I'm different! I think!"

"You _think_!?"

It _smack_ s one of its paws across my face, scratching my cheek a little. "J-just listen to me for a second! I never came here using a phone or an app or _anything_ , it's just me! I don't know if it'll work the same with you! For all I know, you might get sucked into the Vortex World while I make it out the other side!"

"Vortex World…?"

"Wha—you entered a Palace, and you don't even know what the Vortex World is!?"

"I don't know _anything_ about _any of this_!" I start coughing again because I feel what remains of my meals coming up into my throat and I choke it back down. I fall to my knees, spluttering and very nearly breaking out in tears, and I scream and groan and want to hide in a hole for the rest of my life.

"Are you sick or something…?"

I hiss and groan and glare at the faraway beast, and I ask all I can manage, "Why is my girlfriend riding on some _abomination,_ and what _happened to the rest of the world_!?"

" _That_ 's your girlfriend?" I whirl around to face it, its large eyes somewhat sad now. "I'm so sorry."

"The app told me this place manifests because of _distortion_ or whatever…but…I don't…," I manage to arrange myself in a seated position, getting a little lightheaded. "Oh my God."

"Y-you need to calm down—"

"Palaces, distortions, her _heart_ …?" I mumble everything I remember typing down and all a sudden it clears completely. "All of this is hers. Is this…is this really what she _thinks_ of the world?"

"It…wasn't always like this." I face the cat, whose wide eyes turn stern. "Last I checked here was three weeks ago. The distortions were always here, but they've…gotten way worse. Something happened between then and now. I don't know what."

I dig my nails into my hair. "I've got some idea."

"It'd be better for you if you could get back to the real world. We can talk there."

"I need my phone."

"Pretty sure your phone's gone. That monster vaporized most everything in its immediate vicinity except us. Even if we do recover your phone, it's prolly burnt to a crisp."

"Then how do I…?"

It sighs, "We'll just have to take a risk. Do what I said might end up throwing you into the Vortex World."

I manage to laugh a little, but whatever sounds come out sound more like ragged gasps and choking noises. "I _am_ in hell…"

"You have to close your eyes. I promise, I'll find you and I'll do my best to explain everything. Right now, you have to trust me."

Sure, why the hell not. Trust this bizarro cat to save my life in this hellscape.

He lays a paw upon my forehead as I keep my eyes shut.

* * *

When I open my eyes I find I'm right outside my house. Right out on the front door.

"Whew…okay. We can't do that again." I turn my head down, and I see a black cat with blazing golden eyes staring up at me. "Your body split apart in, like, five different dimensions. Spent like an hour putting you all back together. Best you get a new phone and download the app through there, if you wanna get to the Vortex World again."

And I just stare at it.

And stare at it.

"Wh-what…?"

Suddenly I break out into loud, uproarious laughter. Gazing up at the sky. Thunder crashes in the distance as the clouds bundle up into a damp and dark grey, and when the rain pours my laughter is drowned out.

So I laugh and laugh and laugh, and the cat can do nothing but watch and wag its tail.


	7. Mercurius, Two-Faced God

**12 / 24 / 2015**

Eventually Kana stirs awake from the couch and we both get hungry enough to eat dinner together.

Dinner is just a bowl of soup for me, and a cup of ramen for Kana. I can't even look her in the eyes; she doesn't say a single word. After dinner she immediately goes straight to bed.

I head out of the house the second I determine she's fully fallen asleep. I knew if I spent another minute near her in any way shape or form, I'd just go completely insane. So I put on a grey hoodie and rush out the door and take the longest possible train to literally anywhere else.

Because for as much as I puked and pissed all over myself then, that miserable godforsaken hellhole is where Kana's deepest and darkest demons lie.

That wasn't a dream. And hell, I want to believe it was. If just falling to my knees and smashing my skull into the floor would give me just a chance to forget all of that, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But I'll never forget it, not for as long as I live.

And in all this madness I remember _The Little Prince_ again. I remember the ending, how the Prince returns to his home planet, returns to his Rose in the stars. How the Pilot implores the reader, if they were to ever find themselves in the desert, to stand under the star at the saddest and most beautiful landscape in all the world. And to tell him that, if they ever see a little man who laughs and who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, that he has come back.

By the time I realize where I am, I find I'm in Shibuya of all places. In an underground mall. Huddled up in a corner somewhere no one can see, sitting curled into myself like some invalid. There's a empty water bottle I don't even remember purchasing in my right hand. Breath smells like ass and left hand won't stop shaking. Stomach hurts like hell and my teeth are chattering uncontrollably.

It's cold because it's _Christmas again_ , like last year, and everyone in the mall's all padded up in thick winter clothes and smiling and happy and a part of me just wants to grab them all and bite out their faces—

"Are you done?"

And this _cat_ is still following me everywhere.

"Leave me the hell alone."

"You'll probably throw yourself into traffic the second I do."

I chuckle, "Maybe I should. Maybe I deserve it."

"Okay, calm down."

" _How do you expect me to do that_!?"

"Determination, I guess."

"Go to hell."

"Been there. So've you."

" _Shut up_!"

"Like it or not, your girlfriend is stuck in a nightmare." It leaps up, jumping upon my knees. "That land you just wandered in? _That_ 's what she thinks of this whole planet. And that monster we ran away from is a creature from her own cognition. And I have a feeling that unless we do something, it'll only get worse."

At that I can do nothing but put my hands to my face. I nearly sob and piss and moan but I keep it together well enough to beg, "Tell me everything. Please."

"I need to know what caused the distortion to... _go wild_ like it did. What happened in the past few weeks?"

"Her mom suddenly broke down in the middle o' the day," I recount as I dig the nails of my left hand into my head. "She tried stabbing us. Gutted me like a fish. Beat her daughter's face into pulp and then caused her granddaughter to go everywhere, in the floorboards the carpets the—"

"Okay, okay! I understand—" it lays its paws on my head. "It's okay. Just stop."

I curl up in a ball and weep. I don't even feel like crying, my eyes are just _spilling_ out tears like a waterfall, like something in my body is compelling me to cry. I wrote Kana's name down on a whim, because that _thing_ in my head had told me the Navigator would be useful in some way and I was willing to try anything to help her.

That man in the suit...

"That's horrible...but it explains everything, I suppose," says the cat.

"How?"

"Okay...you said you wandered in that Palace by using an app, right? On your phone?"

I take a deep breath and shudder out a "Yeah."

"Okay. From what you've experienced...what do you know about Palaces and distortions?"

This is beyond ridiculous and a part of me wishes I could just slap myself awake from this nonsense that in literally every other situation would just be a crazy dream. But I can't, no matter how hard I may try, so I might as well go along with it all.

"It said...," I wipe my face, "Distortions. Negative cognitions or beliefs. It said that when your heart's distorted, you see things in ways others can't even imagine. And that reflection of the world forms a Palace."

"Okay, that's pretty good, all things considered. So you know _that_ much."

I groan, "It said something about _Treasures_ and _Shadows_ , too...I don't even remember."

"Oooh, so that app was pretty informative!" it actually smiles a little. "Okay. So—a Treasure is a distillation of her distorted desires."

Can't listen well to big words when I'm scared and sad and angry, "What?"

"She has...desires. Very, very screwed up desires. So much so that they coalesced into a Treasure, which in turn spawned a Palace. To be very clear: the Treasure represents a desire that she has, so strong and all-consuming that it completely recolors her perception of the world around her. Judging from what you told me, I think we can make a guess as to what her Treasure was."

I remember so many little minute things; how she looked when she told me of her dream to go to Tokyo U, being the most prominent. "She'd said that she wanted _more than a happy life_. When we first...got to know each other. She's...blamed herself for everything that's gone wrong. Even if she can't control it at all, she just..."

"What did she want?"

"She said she wanted to go to Tokyo U. But the reason why...was her daughter."

"Was she... _your_ daughter...?"

I shake my head. "Kana had her before I even met her. I...wouldn't have cared if...," I grip my hands. "She wanted to make things better for herself, her family, and her daughter. She went so far as to approach me and ask me to help her study. Help her chances of getting into a good university. And then...how long has this...?"

"I can't tell you how long she's had these desires. Best estimate is since at least last year?"

What the hell? "Last year?"

"Yeah, I—"

"What month?"

"W-well," it clears its throat, "I only got a bead on it since December 2014. It was nowhere near as bad as it is now."

"December."

 _His head is in my hands, I'm smashing it against the ground and praying for him to stop screaming, I'm smiling widely with gritted teeth as Kana and her mother watch the blood flow and a crunch sinks into my left hand as I punch out his teeth_ —

"H-hey!" the cat puts its paws on my cheeks, "Snap out of it! I almost lost you again..."

"I think I caused this..."

"What?"

"I-I, last December, I, she was, she was so _scared_ —"

" _You_ didn't cause this. _She_ didn't cause this. A distortion typically doesn't arise from one single event, okay? It's something you gotta feed, over the course of a long time. Most of the time it's unconscious, which is why it manifests as a Palace, and why her Shadow's ruling over it."

Shadow. "The app said that Shadows were the...parts of ourselves we didn't like to see."

It nods its head, "Precisely. It's every single part of herself that she refuses to acknowledge. Her desire is so overwhelming and blinding that she's learned to just...ignore or shell away everything she'd otherwise hate about herself, just so that she could get it. Palaces run entirely on this sort of self-denial."

"And if she kept feeling this way, she may end up killing herself."

"Or killing other people."

I growl, "She wouldn't do that."

"Not right now, anyway. But once your heart's distorted, there's no telling what you might do to attain your desired—"

"That's _not_ Kana."

"To be frank, how well _do_ you know this girl?"

"Better than you." Self-denial. That's the root of this whole thing. "What if she stopped denying herself?"

Cat licks itself in a pondering way. "Well...one of two things could happen."

"Like...?"

"If she attains the self-awareness to overcome her Shadow, she may forsake her distorted desires and the Palace will crumble."

Something hopeful wells up in my chest. "And her heart would be cleared of its distortion?"

"Hopefully, yes. Self-awareness and self-reflection of one's unhealthy desires tends to free up the heart of its thorns. But there's another possibility."

"Which is?"

"She becomes aware of her distorted desires, but rather than forsaking them, internalizes them."

What? "What happens then?"

" _Then_ , that's dangerous. At that point, her Palace will evolve. Her Shadow will evolve. Her distorted desires are no longer an unconscious reflection of her heart, but become a fully-realized obsession made manifest. At that point, a Palace is no longer a Palace—she will become so subsumed by her desires that she won't ever be free of them. By that point she'll do anything and everything to achieve them. Even if it means destroying herself or others."

"God damn it."

"Yeah. Pretty much."

"Oh God— what even _are you_ , anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean! You're—you're some _weirdo cat thing_ that knows all about Palaces and Shadows and Treasures—"

"First of all, I'm _not_ a cat. I am Morgana."

If it were human it'd be standing on its two legs, puffing out its chest and keeping its hands on its sides.

"That doesn't explain anything."

"I'm a human. An honest-to-god human."

"Right, and I'm Prime Minister."

"It's _true_! You have to believe me!"

"Well, considering how you _look_ , you've gotta understand my dilemma a little here."

"Understand _my_ dilemma! I dunno how I became stuck in this cat form! And I dunno how I'll get out. But I _do_ know about Palaces and Treasures. I know that if I keep going after them, I'll figure out what happened to me and maybe get my memories back!" Suddenly it scratches its face with its hind leg. "I think..."

I huff, "That's a bit of a stretch, Mr. Whiskers."

" _Well it's all I've got_! Don't judge me! And my name is Morgana, not Mr. Whiskers, _get it right—!_ "

"That's why you were in Kana's Palace? Looking for a way to become human again?"

It exhales, "Yeah."

"Alright."

"Why were _you_ in there?"

I sigh and close my eyes. "I had a dream. A man...in a purple suit. Told me that something called a Navigator was already in my phone. Said if I wanted to save Kana, I needed to _venture into her heart_ , whatever that meant. By this time, I was desperate to try anything to help her. So I opened the app, and you know the rest."

"Man in a purple suit...? Did you catch his name?"

"No," I lie. "I don't know his name."

"Well...okay. Guess anything can happen in the Vortex World."

More terms I don't understand. Just what I need. " _Vortex World_."

"Hm? Yeah?"

"What does that mean."

"Alright, _that_ 's too complicated to talk about right now."

"Fine..."

For a few moments we just sit there. Silent, afraid, not knowing what the hell else to do but think about what could happen next.

"There's a way to save her," the cat says suddenly. "From her distorted desires."

Intrigued, I lean in closer, "How?"

Its golden eyes gleam even in the dark, shaded spot I've huddled myself into. "If a Treasure is a manifestation of her desires, then it follows that if that Treasure were taken away...so would those desires. A change of heart will then occur within the Palace Ruler—the change may take days or even weeks, but the change will occur. And then..."

Suddenly something dull settles in my chest. "But there's a catch."

"What?"

"There's _always_ a catch, you don't just steal someone's desires and expect them to be totally okay afterwards—"

"I wouldn't say they'd be _okay_...they'd be better than they were _before_. But they'll have to deal with the fallout of their actions anyway."

The implications settle then and immediately I grow disturbed. "So...I should brainwash Kana out of her depression."

It shakes its head, "Look at it like this: she's grown so unhealthily obsessed with something that she's willing to ignore _enormous_ aspects of herself, and has distorted the world around her into something totally unrecognizable. It's a desire that's grown out of control and is forming for her an _intensely_ distorted view of the world. By stealing it, you're basically restoring her to who she was before her desires took over. _That_ 's it."

I think about everything she had been. Everything I knew of her. That smile she bore whenever I studied with her and her daughter, and how little all those happy hours mattered in the face of the nightmare she's had to live with. A nightmare I could help put an end to, if I could just...

No. "I...," I wipe my eyes, "I don't think that I have that right..."

"Oh come _on_..."

"She's my girlfriend!" I shout at it. "I-I don't, what right do I have to even, like—"

"You said it yourself. At this rate she may very well end up killing herself."

"You don't know that, _I_ don't know that—"

"But you can make an educated guess!"

"I won't _do that_ based on a _guess_!"

Cat turns belligerent, needlessly so, "Don't you wanna help her!? I thought you loved her—!" and in so doing gives itself away.

"You're withholding information."

"What!?"

"Don't try and _manipulate me_. I'm not in the mood."

"I'm not...," it lowers its head. "I've never done it before."

"Stolen a Treasure?"

"...no."

"Then how do you know it'll work the way you say it does?"

"I just _do_. I don't remember how, I just _do_."

I chuckle a little, "That's _real_ comforting. Leaving my girlfriend's mental state in the hands of some cat-thing that doesn't really remember how it knows what it knows."

"And what are _you_ gonna do? _Coddle her_ until she decides she won't be depressed anymore?"

"Could it kill her? Stealing the Treasure?"

Cat's eyes widen. "That's..."

"It _could_ , couldn't it?" I glare at it, piercing through its golden eyes.

"Not necessarily."

"That's not a _no_."

"Let me explain!" it shouts back. "Look. She doesn't know a _thing_ about what goes on in her Palace. Even though it's her cognition of how the whole world _looks_ —it's fundamentally connected to the state of her heart. If the Palace goes, it'll impact her, emotionally and mentally. Stealing the Treasure causes the collapse of the Palace. Her cognitions of the world will _disappear_. She won't be stuck in a living hell anymore. She'll be _free_."

Free. But. "There's still a chance things could go wrong."

"We all need desires to survive, after all," it sighs. "The will to sleep, eat, even fall in love—all those things. If all those yearnings were to just up and vanish, then...they'd be no different from someone who's shut down entirely. And if they lack proper care, then they could possibly..."

"Then to hell with that," I get up off the ground and march away from the cat.

"If we do it right, we can save her!" it pleads, following close behind me.

To which I grab it by the scruff of its neck and lift it up to my face.

"Her mother tried to _kill us_. She stabbed me in my stomach and cut my guts open, before beating her daughter to near-death and _dismembering_ her own grandchild. Can't you imagine what she must be feeling right now? I'm pretty sure all she wants is her _family_ back—"

" _That's why the Palace is as messed up as it is_!" the cat cries. "The distortion _used to_ just affect her house! Now it's the whole world! No matter where she goes, she thinks she's stuck in Hell! Don'tcha think you might be able to help even a little if—"

"I'm _not_ going to risk her life."

"You already are. I've seen what happens to people who have Palaces like this. It _never_ ends well."

I drop the cat, and it lands on all fours. "I'll think of something."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I _said_ I'll think, I'll find a solution."

"You can't save her, you know. Not like this, not in _this_ world. She's too far gone to try and—"

"Let me try."

" _I've already told you I_ —"

"Let. Me. Try," I growl at it, turning away and walking off. "I have faith in her."

"No, you have faith in _yourself_." I stop in my tracks. "You think you can tease out the part of her you thought you knew. But you can't. No one ever can. Not _here_."

I've no energy left to banter back with anything else than, "Why do you even want _my_ help? I dunno a single thing about how any of this even works—"

Cat's gone entirely.

By the time I get home I crash into the sofa and sleep for eleven hours.

.

.

.

* * *

**12 / 25 / 2015**

Late afternoon. Dad's study.

He came home early today. Christmas and all that. Let me sleep in 'cuz I was exhausted.

"She obviously can't come with you."

I grit my teeth, strands of bedhead lilting over my face. "Why not."

"The psychiatrist was assigned specifically for you. As was your transfer. It'd cause complications if she followed you there."

"You can pull strings. I'm sure."

"Not this time."

"What's wrong with you?" I rise up out of my chair. "Her mother killed her daughter. Nearly killed _her and me_. She needs me, she—she needs someone who can be there for her when she—"

"Let her find her own psychiatrist."

"She works as a waitress at some Big Bang Burger somewhere in Ginza. She has no money, no place to go, no family to go back to. _I'm all she has left_. And I _owe_ her! Her testimony didn't help my case, but she put herself up on the stand _for me_. I have to try _something_!"

I can't recall the last time I've ever shouted against my father this way. Nor can I ever recall the last time I've looked so insignificant in his eyes.

"She spoke to me earlier, said she's found someone to stay with," Dad says suddenly.

"What?"

"She'll be leaving in a week. Confirm it with her, if ever you catch her awake."

" _What_...?"

She didn't even tell me.

Dad begins again, "Ever since she's entered your life, everything you've tried to build for yourself has fallen apart. Your class standing. Your reputation. Your _permanent record_. She's a noose around your neck and you're asking me to let you tighten it."

I seethe, "If anyone's a noose 'round my neck, it's you."

He just raises his brow. "Feeling's mutual. You can't _begin_ to understand how much paperwork I've had to do to ensure your identities remain secret."

"To hell with your paperwork—"

"I know it may not look it, but I'm doing all of this for your sake. Staying with her will ruin what's left of you."

I chuckle at him, unable to hold back a sneer, "I don't get your selectiveness."

"Selectiveness?"

"You and Mom stayed together through thick and thin. Even though you knew word could break out about you having a bastard like me. And yet you still—"

"You don't have relatives you can just _pay off_ to forget about your affairs. I built Cybers myself from the ground up. I was able to keep everything between myself and your mother under wraps. You won't have that luxury anymore, you've been convicted. Anything and everything you do when you reach adulthood will be scrutinized to hell and back. The least you can do is cut off any thorny branches, so that you at least _have_ a chance at a future."

"How can I focus on my future while abandoning her to hers?"

He scoffs, "She has none."

Before I know it my legs carry me closer and I'm grabbing him by the collar over the table, gritting my teeth right up in his face, " _How dare you_!?"

But then the whole world turns sideways and a _thud_ smashes up to the side of my face. Before I can even tell what's happened, my arm's all bent back and feels like it's on the verge of snapping and I lift my head to see my father, looming over me. Keeping my arm locked with one arm and my face down with the other.

Even the slightest movements I make cause unending agony from the shoulder down.

"Throw yourself to that little whore, and your life is forfeit. I guarantee it. Stay as blind as you like, but you're throwing yourself at someone who does not love you."

"You don't—know a _goddamned—"_

_Kkrk_

"—AAGH!"

He unhands me, surprisingly gently, and I can do nothing else but slump away. Defeated I sink back into my chair and eye him, with an arm firm on my throbbing shoulder.

"She clutches onto you now because you're there. You were _there_. With her, when her mother had gone mad. She clings to you like a lost puppy because she's got no one else. And that is why she'll destroy you."

I glare at him, teeth bared and seething, "You're wrong about her."

"I won't deny that she cares about you. But I doubt she _loves_ you. I've a feeling she had more ulterior motives for getting you to _help her study_."

"Stop saying things you've got no basis for—"

"Of all the people this beautiful young girl had to ask for help with her studies, while struggling financially and having to tend to a child...it just so happened to be _you_ she picked."

"I got all the top grades in class, _that's_ why she asked for my help."

"Wouldn't she have picked someone more approachable? I know you're not exactly the most open fellow when it comes to social interaction."

"She's an outcast. Had a bad reputation."

"I assume for being easy."

I find it in me to get out the chair again, " _You don't have the right to judge her_!"

"And you lack the clarity to see _any of this_ for what it is."

I open my mouth to try and say something. Anything. All that comes out is dead air. So all I can do is maintain this furious look I have in my eyes for a few seconds more. Before long I can't stomach being in the same room as him, so I pick myself up and head to the door.

My dad's aloof, brusque nature doesn't surprise me. Hasn't surprised me since I was six. But he's never laid a hand on me before today. He's never looked down on me more than he has today. Never condescended. But even after everything that I'd said, everything I'd nearly done to him, his expression _still_ didn't change even once.

Not even as he manhandled me over his own table.

But she...

She didn't even tell me that she had arranged to meet with anyone else. Didn't even wake me up to let me know.

And Dad, for everything he is, isn't a liar.

* * *

When I make it back to my room, I find Kana is in my bed and she is sleeping.

When I took her to my house after the fact, she didn't cry the whole way home. She didn't cry when she curled up in my bedsheets and take hours to fully fall asleep. Didn't even say anything to me. Not one word. But now, when I sit in my bed, I look at her sleeping and I see something cracking if not having already shattered.

And I remember a dream I once had. Somewhere in the few days before Shido.

In the dream, I was with Kana and we were both in our early thirties. We were in a kitchen and we were eating breakfast. Both of us were exhausted, because the night before Masako had asked help with a school project and needed it done by the evening. Masako and her mother had argued and fought because Masako had been given the project weeks in advance and had done nothing at all. But I had been the one to mediate between the two of them and get to working on the project.

The project was to make a little universe inside a box, one that described _you_ and everything about _you_. So of course Kana and I had tried putting in all the things Masako hated like pony pictures or sparkles or stars. Masako had gotten real annoyed but in the end it had been worth it. Kana and I smiled at each other at the table, smiled at how frizzy our hair had become and how baggy our eyes had gotten and how we were going to be _so late_ for our jobs but how it didn't matter at all.

So when Masako came down the stairs and kissed myself and her mother and bowed like she often had done and bowed while asking for our sincere forgiveness even though we all knew she'd end up being so forgetful again, we loved her and forgave her and told her to take care of herself at school. She saluted and she hugged me and she hugged her mom and she grabbed her bag and ran out the door.

But Kana and I then realized that she had forgotten her little universe and so we ran up to her room to get it and we got it to her _just as she reached the station_ we drove all the way there just to get the box to her and she laughed and we got mad and we just acted like some big stupid family that everyone else for some reason was able to have.

Kana will move out of my house in a week. She will stay, likely with that friend she'd mentioned yesterday. She will be without me for a whole year, likely even more. She may respond to my texts, may respond to my calls, may actually call up every now and again but it will not be the same. It will never be the same.

So she and I will be apart, and what we have right now—despite our promises—will most likely not last long-term. So I think about her, this one single night. I think about what I can say to her by the time she has to leave, what kind of goodbyes we will share. Trying to visualize it, practice it silently. _I'll call you_ , I'll say. _I know_ , she'll say. And then...

Curses, palaces, distortions.

None of it makes any sense anymore. Nothing ever did, not since the day I saw Shido attacking her and her mother. And in my terror and shame, I think of the cat and the man in my dreams, and how perhaps taking a gamble might do me more good than harm.

Kana Kohaku was a mother, she _is_ my girlfriend, and she is one of the most wonderful people I have ever met in my entire life and I wouldn't give her up for anyone else in this lifetime.

And I can't help her. Because she doesn't think I can.

"I know you're there. I know you can hear me." A shape pops up in the window. One with pointed ears and a long tail and blazing golden eyes. "I'm willing to give it a try."

Widely the cat smiles, almost so wide the smile exceeds beyond its face. "Excellent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOOOO BOY  
> Okay. Someone in the comments wanted me to clear up any deviations from canon I'm planning to make; I like to be as organic as possible with my storytelling, so any changes to canon would be made clear as the story progressed. Still, I'd like everyone to be on the same page with the new rules in this fic, and so I'll let you guys know just what the whole shindig is with the Vortex World once this whole arc is complete. I'll still leave things vague enough for the rest of the fic to speak for itself.  
> Feel free to comment; constructive criticism is appreciated. Cuz lord knows I'm prolly gonna eff up the fourth iteration of this story as much as the other three :P


	8. The Lie I Believed In

**12 / 25 / 2015**

Outside my house. On the porch out the front door. Cat's by my side.

Night air is cold. But my heart's beating so quick that the weather doesn't even matter to me all that much.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I'm still intent on trying to help her in the here and now. But..." It takes me everything I have to admit, "...from what I can tell, she has no confidence that I _can_ help her. And maybe rightfully so."

"Did you try anything today?"

"No. But…you were right to doubt me. I was running on fear and adrenaline, walking like a man in a dream. I thought maybe…"

"You thought…?"

I see my breath bloom into mist out my mouth. "I thought maybe if I just tried hard enough I could think of something, anything to _say_. But that would mean completely ignoring what she'd told me yesterday. She thinks me being near her will kill me."

"She said that to you?"

"Just before I entered her Palace. I didn't think about it too much. But after I spoke with Dad, it…kinda cleared my head."

"I see. Very sorry to hear that."

"Doesn't matter anymore," I groan. "She's arranged to leave my house by next week. At least, that's what my Dad tells me. And he doesn't lie."

"You're sure about that?"

"In this case, he doesn't have a reason _to_ lie. Either she'll leave by next week, or she won't. What I'm curious about is whether she was forced into this, or she decided this of her own will."

Cat sighs, "To be blunt, your dad's a real piece of work."

"Always has been. But he's—" I grip my shoulder, which has stopped aching, "—never raised a hand against me before…"

"That's messed up of him, to do that to you in the first place."

"Prolly real stressed out. Been ruining my future more and more recently. Guess he's just pissed I ain't being a _good boy_ anymore."

"Wonder what _his_ Palace is like…"

I scoff, "Probably full of tall Cybers buildings populating every single country. Dunno. Doesn't matter right now."

"Right."

"She'll be gone in a week, I'll be gone in a few months. My future's all gone to hell. Not gonna let hers follow mine. No matter what Dad says."

Cat smiles, "That's it, follow your heart! I'm sure we'll be able to fix things!"

Sounds weird to refer to all this as _fixing things_ , but whatever.

"Why did you want _my_ help in the first place?" I ask the cat. "Even yesterday you were suggesting I help you."

"I mean, don't you _want_ to help your girlfriend?"

"Course I do. Just saying, I'm green as hell to all this. Won't I just slow you down?"

"Had multiple attempts to steal different people's Treasures before. All failed miserably. But I've a feeling this situation might tip into my favor, so long as I'm with you."

"Why?"

"Because you're her boyfriend. You've definitely affected her psyche somehow. You might help me get through certain roadblocks along the way. It's a one-in-a-million chance. But it's better than zero."

I don't like those odds at all. But I'm willing to take whatever chance I can get, so long as I can help free Kana of this nightmare she's stuck in.

But it's still pretty fubar, all things considered. "I don't like any of this at all."

"I get it. I mean, she's your girlfriend—"

"Not _just_ that. I mean. She's—" I groan. "This feels like something she ought to settle herself, you know? It's one thing if I was, like, requested to do this, but…"

"But it's to help her. Prolly gonna save her life."

"I know. I can't even imagine feeling the kind of agony she's got brewing inside her. But still."

"If you were feeling the same pain she is now, wouldn't it be great if she could help you out of it?"

"It would, because I trust her enough with that kinda pain. But I never even caught wind of just _everything_ going on with her, I only scratched the surface. She hasn't told me anything so far. Other than how she wants me gone, and is afraid she'll kill me if she stays with. And besides…"

"Besides, _what_?"

I rub the back of my neck. "Kana's depression is above and beyond anything I could ever feel. If at any point I fell into that kind of dark place…it'd be cheap for me to be pulled out of it without any input on my end."

Cat tilts its head. "Oh _come on_ …"

"It's a pride thing," I exclaim. "If someone extends a hand to me, I'd like it to be my choice to take it."

"She can't make that decision properly! Her heart's distorted! Probably any attempt to help her she'll look at with scorn! Get a grip, you can't _help her_ the way you want to!"

"You really, _really_ wanna go for this whole _Steal the Treasure_ thing?"

"Your other option is to wait for her to talk to you about it, which is unlikely. But she won't last that long, I'm sure."

"What do you mean, you're _sure_?"

"I've been in Palaces with some _very_ depressed people. Some were students like her, some were divorcees who had a nasty breakup, some were drunks and junkies who drove away all their friends. Seven times outta ten they just killed themselves eventually. The other three ended up having to live with all that burden. Some of 'em got their act together. Others had their Palaces evolve, and started being a drain on _everyone_ they once loved."

"Evolve into Kingdoms, right?"

"Yeah! The app told you about Kingdoms, too?"

"Saw that word passed around in the app. Never really thought to open up the folder that explained everything…"

"Well, anyway…those people I mentioned? Their distorted desires coloured their perceptions of the whole world around them, just like this Kana girl's. In that respect, they're similar. So if you're gonna bank on—"

"Ideally I'd like to trust her to recover on her own power."

"I don't think she has that luxury. And you don't think so either. After all, you wouldn't have even considered goin' into the Palace if you did. And honestly maybe you're right to think that way."

I run my hands along my hair briskly over and over again, "I feel so uncomfortable about all this."

"I get it. But going into her Palace might be the only way to help her."

I narrow my eyes, "Or kill her, right?"

Cat says, "I'm not gonna lie to you. This _is_ a delicate situation. Her Treasure's likely going haywire."

My eyes widen. "What do you mean?"

"Considering what you told me about her, her Treasure was indeed likely related to her family, namely her daughter. Considering what happened to her, I think it's safe to say her Treasure's been…affected. Badly."

"Can it still be stolen?"

"I mean, probably. I think. Ideally it should be, but…now that I think about it, her real-world experiences may have done _something_ to it…

"So there's probably a huge margin of error anyway. Probably even bigger than normal."

"Er—y-yeah. Yes, I suppose so…," the cat murmurs, trying to think up a way out of all this. "And the Palace is gonna be full of things trying to kill us, and I'm not talking about the big monster thing. You'll see what I mean, when we get there."

"Then why even attempt it at all?"

The cat shouts, "We've been over this! If her Palace is as screwed up as I _know_ it is, then literally _anything_ you do here won't work!"

I look up at the dark sky, and as the moon glares upon the earth a lightbulb shines in my head.

"Her _Shadow_ …" I murmur. "That _thing_ on the monster…"

Cat exhales, "Yeah?"

"I wanna talk to her."

It cries out, " _What_!?"

"That thing is a part of Kana. If I can reach it, I might better understand it. Might give us an edge. Hell, if I can get enough info out of it, I might be able to help Kana even in this world. At least get something of a foothold."

Cat shakes its head. "I don't know about _that_. The beast she rode on nearly fried you alive. I think she's hostile, all things considered."

"Maybe so. But if she _is_...I need to figure out why. I need to figure out if everything we'd been through together was a lie."

"…oh."

"What could go wrong? Not a rhetorical question. What reason might her Shadow have to _not_ speak to me?"

"Well...frankly, there's always the possibility that you didn't really know her as well as you thought."

I slink further down the steps of the porch, letting all the air outta my lungs. "And why would she speak to someone who doesn't know her...?"

"There's also the possibility that, since her Treasure's gone all crazy, her Shadow prolly won't listen to reason in general."

I put a hand to my face, "Damn it all."

It puts its paws on my head, looking down at me directly, "Can't hurt to give it a try, though! Never say never."

"I don't want her to suffer a mental break or anything," I shake my head. "I just want to see if there's anything I'm missing…anything I can use."

Cat raises its brow. "In that case, you'd be using events in the Palace to make things work for yourself in the real world."

"I suppose so."

It smirks cheekily then, "Can you really say it's her choice if she _takes your hand_ , then? If you used what you got from her Shadow to get the response you wanted?"

I sigh, "I'm running out of options, and time."

Cat lays a paw on my leg, eyes almost sympathetic. "It can't hurt to give it a try."

I find it in myself to run a hand along the fur off its head and back. "Alright, Cat. Let's do it tonight."

"My name is _Morgana_ —wait, _tonight_?"

"My name's Kazuya. And yes, tonight. Sooner the better."

"You sure you're ready to go back there?"

"Absolutely."

"What about your phone?"

Oh yeah, phone. Damn it.

I grab the cat and carry it under my arm, "Comin' with me to Akihabara!"

"H-hey! Don't be so rough with me!"

* * *

The smartphone I end up getting is outdated and plain black, with a screen that wears my fingerprints like clothes. Apps and programs look like they belong in 2012.

The cat speaks up on the train ride back home. Luckily we're in an empty train car, and I was able to pay the fare for pets.

"You're _sure_ that just getting a new phone will give you the app?"

"Probably."

"How?"

"If that specific app was something you could find on _every_ phone, then literally every single news outlet in the world would be talking about its ability to traverse different planes of existence. There's also the fact that the man in my dreams spoke of a _Navigator_ and its importance in saving Kana's heart. With everything I've experienced up to this point, I can assume it has unfathomable supernatural origins."

Cat just blinks, "Okay..."

"Whoever or whatever gave me the app intends for me to use it. Probably the man in my dreams. And considering its supernatural nature, I'm pretty certain that me losing a cellphone won't stop them from pushing me towards going into that world, what did you call it?"

"Vortex World."

"Right. So hopefully if I buy a new phone, the app will just magically reappear."

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then either you teleport me into that world using the dimension-jumping powers _you've_ got--"

"Which has like a 60% chance of splitting your atoms into multiple layers of existence--"

"-- _or_ I just have to hope and pray Kana recovers from her depression."

"Which is unlikely."

I shake my head. "Either way she and I are screwed so I might as well give it a try."

"Has it appeared yet?"

"No...not yet."

"Maybe you shoulda gotten a newer model."

"I doubt that whatever put the Nav in my phone _cares_ about the model."

"You never know. Maybe it's a capitalist."

"Don't be stupid--" _pprrring_ "--it's in."

"What?"

"It's in--the app's in my phone. I just got it."

"Lemme see!"

A red, bloated, digital eye kept captive in a square with round edges.

" _That_ 's the app?" the cat asks.

"Yes."

"You sure?"

"I remember it clearly."

"Hm," it narrows its eyes. "So no matter what happens to your phone, as long as you get a new one, you can safely enter the Vortex World no prob."

"Sooner or later you'll have to explain what _Vortex World_ means clearly, or else I'm gonna be so lost when we dive into Kana's Palace."

"The Vortex World is what I call the realm where all Palaces and Kingdoms reside," it says quickly, eloquently, as though it's practiced this before. "It's a realm constructed entirely of negative human cognitions."

"You said you...took an hour to put me back together, whatever that means."

"Yes. Something happened to my human form that turned me into a cat and gave me the ability to jump into Palaces without needing that app. But with you, since your body's a regular ol' human body, it had...issues going from one layer of reality to the next. It got messy, to say the least. You're lucky I was able to put you back together and get us back out to the real world."

Guess I'm gonna have to get used to all this weird nonsense. "Has this Vortex World always existed, or...did it just appear out of nowhere one day?"

"I'd say it's always existed, in some form or another. But I'd likely be amiss to say it's made itself manifest in these kinds of ways before."

Likely? Oh, right. It's lost its memories. "You think there's something behind it?"

"Honestly, I don't know. It's all so...hazy."

"Figured."

"You're right to say it's a stretch for me to think jumping 'round Palaces might get my memories back. But I woke up only with the knowledge that the Vortex World is acting in ways it shouldn't. That Palaces and Kingdoms contain things called Treasure that are reflective of human desire. And considering that's _all_ I know about _any of this_ , I've gotta take what I can get."

"I suppose I understand," I sigh.

"You're taking this all so _well_. It's strange."

"What do you mean?"

"You should be freaking out at the idea of a whole other world. But you're just absorbing all this without a care."

I face the window, face the city passing the train by, "Because once Kana's dealt with, I won't ever have to touch the app ever again."

Cat wags its tail, "Well, hopefully."

"Just one question."

"Yeah?"

"What if her Palace turns into a Kingdom?"

"Well...what about it?"

"You said that if it _evolves_ , her distorted desires...can't be changed anymore. Could you elaborate?"

It scratches its left ear. "A Palace is founded on everything a person doesn't want to acknowledge about themselves. Once they do get a foothold on those unacknowledged, distorted desires, they could either work to correct themselves or indulge in the distortion. If they choose to indulge, they develop a Kingdom. At _that_ point, the only one who can possibly change their heart is themselves. No way around it."

"The Treasure can no longer be stolen?"

Cat lets out a breath. "It can be. But...if it's stolen, it'll likely kill the Kingdom Ruler."

What? " _Why_?"

"Steal a person's unconscious desires and they'll get their heads set straight. Steal the desires a person has completely internalized as a part of their identity? _That_ 's bound to cause problems."

Good God. "So it's not too different from Palaces, then."

"Okay, look: I haven't stolen a Treasure from a Palace nor a Kingdom. But I do know that stealing from a Palace has a _chance_ it could result in someone dying. A slim chance, but still a chance. Stealing from a _Kingdom_ , on the other hand? It's a certainty. At that point, when a person's got a Kingdom, they're already dead. Either their desires get stolen, or they destroy themselves trying to obtain them."

"You think Kana's gonna develop a Kingdom anytime soon?"

"Honestly?" Cat sinks into my bag, "We're lucky she hasn't already. For all she's expressed to you already, she's _still_ trying to keep down all these dark emotions."

* * *

The instant my foot lands on the front porch of my house, I pull open my phone and tap away at the app again.

True to its nature, it keeps a log of the last Palace I'd been to, in its search history.

A search history it shouldn't have, considering it's in a completely new phone I just so happened to buy today.

 **「 PALACE LOG 」  
** **I. 12 / 24 / 2015 -** **PR: Kana Kohaku | PL: The World | PD: Hell**

I'm gonna have a word with that man in the purple suit one of these days.

But first.

_Tap._

**Palace Confirmed**  
Would You Like to Enter?  
Y/N

"You ready to talk to that monster?"

"I'll have to be."

"Okay."

I tap **Y**.

For a few moments the world dyes itself in blood-red and vantablack.

When I find the courage to finally open my eyes, I'm taken back to history books.

In junior high they taught us World War II. My school in particular didn't do justice to the subject. Readings from the book we'd been handed. A powerpoint here and there. They emphasized the bombs but they didn't emphasize them enough.

There was no talk about how many victims of Fat Man and Little Boy were left wandering irradiated wastelands with their skin sloughing off their bodies like shredded clothes. No talk about how the force of the bombs caused glass shards to spear through and into people's bodies. No talk about how burn victims were so blackened and charred and cindered that even throwing themselves into bodies of water didn't soothe the heat or the pain. No talk of the eternally disfigured Ant-Walking Alligators who once looked like men, and now looked like flesh creatures covered in keloid scars.

I'd never thought Kana had paid much attention to history whenever I spoke about this sort of stuff.

Seeing the people wandering her world, seeing the walking burning rotting carcasses, I could not have been more wrong.

Dozens, maybe hundreds of people pass us by, me and the cat. They pay us no heed whatsoever, all their faces obscured by complete darkness. I daren't look any further, but I do manage to see what's about a hundred yards ahead of us.

Of course, even from this distance, you'd be able to see the seven-headed monstrosity clearly.

"You okay?" the cat asks me.

I turn to it. Bulbous head. Yellow neckerchief. Small cartoon body. Golden saucer-eyes.

"No."

"You wanna go back?"

"...no."

"Okay then." It leaps up into the air, and when it comes back down it's a bus again. Hit none of the wandering half-monsters when it came crashing down. Didn't hit me either. "You ready? It'll take us a while to get there."

I get into the front seat and for a second I don't know what I'm doing. But I pull a lever and it seems to get the engine going.

"ETA ten minutes!"

Silently, I pray, something I never thought I'd ever do seriously. "Alright."

* * *

When we get there...

When we get there.

If you have to ask, you'll never know.

I get out of the front seat. " _Kana!!"_

Lucky that the large monster would move at such a lumbering pace. Allowed us to catch up to it in even less time than anticipated.

But because I've called her it's now turning to me. The seven-headed monstrosity shifts its gazes upon me, and though each of its faces are obscured by the long and thick strands of black hair I can still see their maws which are so large they can each fit fifty men. The creature's seven breaths expel a noxious gas that in any other situation would have made me want to stab the part of my brain that allows me to smell. Its building sized legs shift and cause fissures and imprints into the concrete ground. As it lumbers it makes a groaning, bellowing noise that causes my spine to vibrate and my bones to tremble, and I'm surprised I'm not suffering from shock just by remaining in proximity to it--

"Stay calm, Kazuya...!" cries the cat but I barely hear it.

Because out of all the seven heads, it's the fourth one that lowers itself. And I see her leap down from the top of that head, I see her and she sees me and it takes me everything in my power to not just crumple down and be _somewhere else, watching this happen like a dream_.

Her face is impassive and her robes flow in the nuclear winds. Her body and all the muscle and gristle are exposed before me; her eyes gleam gold, gold like the cat's eyes, and in her arms is a figure small enough to _be a baby_ \--wrapped in red linen.

**"Who are you...?"**

Her voice alone causes the back of my neck to seize up, for it sounds like a thousand different pitches of her voice all combined into one. "K-Kana..."

**"You look just like Kazuya."**

"Wh-what...?"

**"I don't intend to cause you any harm. But I will, should you stay here any longer."**

I make myself strong as steel, or close enough, to ask, "Why?"

**"It is in my nature. All things I come into contact with are corrupted irreparably."**

So much for prayer. "Kana. Can you...?"

**"You may look and sound just like Kazuya. But you are not him. You do not have the right to speak my name so casually."**

"Then please just listen. Give me a minute. I beg you."

It eyes me carefully, cautiously. **"Very well."**

"The whole world...is being consumed by this...fire. What caused this?"

**"I did. Fool that I was. I believed my evil could only be restricted to my homestead, and that it could not affect anyone or anywhere in the rest of the world. However...that was a lie I told myself."**

"I...I _am_ Kazuya. I came from--"

Cat tugs on my pant leg, "She won't get it."

"What?"

"She's a Shadow. J-just...ask her if there's anything you can do to help."

"Can I...," I force all the fear back down, facing Kana's Shadow. "Is there anything _Kazuya_ can do to help?"

 **"I am afraid not,"** she snarls. **"The boy's been bending over backwards for me these past few days. He's cried more times these past few days than I have. There's nothing in him that would save me, as much as he hopes there could be."**

"What?"

She whirls around to face the giant creature, running her free hand along its massive strands of hair. **"He thinks he loves me, and he thinks I love him. But he's not got a clue what love means, nor do I. And despite his harshness, despite his narrow views of the world, there is beauty in him. Or at least there was."**

I lose all instinct to keep standing, "Kana..."

Cat tries to keep me steady, "Kazuya, calm down--"

 **"Who are you, really?"** she faces me again. **"Are you my savior?"**

I glare at her, and I growl out, "I am the one that you've been talking about for--"

**"No. Not a savior. Not Kazuya. A thief."**

"What?"

**"A thief that has come here to plunder what little Treasure I've left."**

"I-I'm not a thief, I'm--I'm trying to _help you_ \--!"

**"Once there was a parasite that lay in my arms."**

What in God's name are you-- "A _parasite_?"

**"A hideous little thing that sucked at my teats and screamed all night, every night, tears gushing down her eyes. Constantly getting sick. Constantly trying to win me over with her black doll's eyes and her little mewling. She clung to my arms and rested upon my chest so often I'd feel like she was a hole my body was being drained into."**

No, please. "Stop it."

**"Feces and piss ran down her legs every night and she'd bawl endlessly to get me to change her trousers and she wouldn't shut the hell up. Some nights I'd consider throttling her, shaking her up and down until she'd stop, _just stop_. But she never would stop and I'd never gain the courage to do what I'd yearned for."**

"Kazuya--"

" _Stop it_."

**"When I had her I told myself I wanted her. I told myself I could try. More times than not I would leave her in a garbage can and hope someone, out there would just take her. But I'd hear her crying a few seconds later, and my fool self would drag myself over to her. Pry her from the trash and tend to her again. As time passed the parasite fused itself more and more to myself--not just to my body but to my soul. Such that if anything were to happen to her, it would wound me just as badly."**

Dear God, Kana. "Why wouldn't you...?"

Because she didn't need me to know.

Because she didn't want me to know.

Because what the hell am I, other than the guy who tutored her?

What the hell did any of those times we shared actually--?

**"I longed to keep her safe. Safe from those who would abuse her as others have to myself. Therefore I sought a man who could sustain us both. One who was intelligent and strong and loved her and loved to teach. I knew not that his parents had endured the same ordeal. I knew not that he would've been stupid and crazy enough to go for someone like me. But he was. And he was arrogant and quiet and harsh and sometimes cruel but he was also kind and he was gentle and the way he spoke to me, the things he did for me--I thought that he loved me more than anyone else ever had, and I was willing to believe the lie that I was coming to care for him too. The lie that someone like myself was capable of feeling that sort of truth. But all lies bubble up to the surface sooner or later. And the lie that I believed in, the lie that there could be a future with the parasite and with the stupid boy--"**

And she unwraps a layer off the linen cloth.

**"--revealed it was just that, and nothing more."**

The skull is bifurcated and cracked and the jaw is hanging limply from one joint. The baby's bones are practically held together only by the barest strands of fiber and muscle, completely desiccated and hollow and sparkling _gold_ \--

"Treasure..." I turned to the little black creature standing next to me. Its golden eyes burn with lust and fury as clouds of air heave out its mouth in gusts. "T- _Treasure_...!"

Oh no. "Cat, _wait_ \--"

"T _RR **REASURE!!!"**_

Suddenly it leaps at the bones and in the dash its fangs grow thrice their size--like a blur it abounds and slashes through the air, Kana's Shadow clutches the red linen close to her chest as her robe is sliced up by the blade, and I see for a second, I'm able to see for only a _second--_

It leaps to try and get at the red linen again, only for Kana's Shadow to sink into the ground in a flurry of dark shades.

"Treasure-- _ **Treasure...!"**_

The cat's eyes bulge furiously, veins in them popping as its mouth stretches wide, wide enough such that it exceeds its face like the Cheshire cat--its hair stands on end like a porcupine's quills more than a cat's fur, its maw drips black sludge and drool and white fog keeps hissing forward from its mouth like steam, its arms and legs have grown thinner and ganglier and longer like it's emaciated, its once bulbous face has turned sharp and thorny and narrow, its saucer eyes growing black slits for pupils--and it seethes and hisses and screeches in rage over not being able to get _those bones in its hands_ \--

And I blink, and the cat's reverted to its cartoonish, ridiculously-proportioned self.

**"Foolish thieves. Cannot even control yourselves at the pieces of my Treasure."**

Kana's Shadow has re-emerged at the top of the fourth head, her eyes full of fury and almost disappointment.

"No. Wait, _Kana_ \--!!"

**"My daughter is dead and gone. Her body is in pieces. And the future I had longed for, gone to the wind. Yet even as she lies broken in my arms, I _will_ ensure her death is not meaningless. No less than her mother deserves--I shall die with her, on my own terms."**

Oh my God. "What...!?"

**"The corrosion of my soul has tainted her, as it will every other person I shall come to know and love, for I am a curse. In order to protect the rest of this world from my poison, I shall end my own life. If only Masako hadn't died to teach me such a lesson. But before I commit this grand act...I must be rid of these Thieves. My child dies with me--none other may steal her. Kazuya. Destroy them."**

And the seven heads rear upward to the darkened skies, as the whole world shakes and trembles. An earthquake that would devour entire continents spreads across the wasteland as the beasts bellow a noise that should burst my lungs and eardrums but doesn't, a noise so loud it ought to be heard from the other side of the planet--

Their thousand-foot long strands of hair part and I see my face on each and every one of those seven heads, I see my eyes, I see my nose, I see everything, their rotted mouths start to burn with an everlasting flame and they direct them at me and the cat and they burn and as they burn I hear them laughing, I hear them laughing the same laugh I made when I _bashed Shido's brains into the sidewalk--_

**Exit the Palace From Entryway?  
Y/N**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo yeah.  
> Morgana's gonna be a lot creepier in this fic for plot reasons to be revealed later. Real keen on Treasure this time around, more than ever.  
> Also, if anyone's not played Nocturne yet and is curious as to what the hell the Vortex World is, let's just say that I prefer the name Vortex World to Metaverse any day, and thought it'd be fun to transplant it in its place. Especially considering I'm gonna make the Nocturne allusions a lot more apparent later on.


	9. Satanael, Emancipator of Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Indeed. If for the sake of emancipation,  
>  ** **May thou perform even the highest sacrilege.**

**12 / 26 / 2015**

The second we arrive back in the real world I chuck the cat into a pile of garbage cans right outside my house.

"Ow! You shouldn't throw animals, dammit!"

I admit, I should be crying and wailing and wanting to die all over again. But right now I'm too pissed off and too confused and hoping for too many things to not be true.

"What the _hell_ was that?"

"I-I'm sorry. I just--I get very excited whenever I see Treasure, especially if it's right there in front of me--"

"Why the hell does it have _my face, on all seven of its heads!?_ "

"Wh-what?"

" _The monster!_ Why does it have _my_ face!?"

"That's...," it winces in pain, getting up and facing me directly, "It's what she must--think of you. It's not a Shadow. It's a--a being of her own cognition. Her perceptions surrounding you are _so_ _warped_...that _that's_ what she perceives you to be, in her own mind."

"That _can't be!"_ I kick the garbage cans away from it and it shrinks from me, as I put my hands to my head and my back against the wall and sink to the ground and lose all my composure. "That--that _can't_ be how she...!"

"I'm afraid it is. I'm sorry."

And all of a sudden I think about just everything she's told me, everything she's felt, the way she _looked at me_ then, the way she must see me now--

I can't help myself from crying again like some stupid goddamned asshole and as the tears pour out I laugh, I start laughing at myself because of all the things that I could have possibly taken away from all this it's that my Dad was right after all.

And I let it happen, I let myself just expel everything I've kept built up inside, and by the time it's all over I don't even know for how long I let myself go. The cat doesn't leave my side once. Whether out of some sense that it owes me or if it just wants to ensure its ticket into the Palace doesn't completely lose it, I don't know.

"I didn't care," is the first thing I manage to say once I bring myself back to reality. "I didn't care that she had her own kid. I didn't care about if Dad would've liked her or not. I liked her. I suppose I liked her too much, though."

"What...," the cat scratches its head, "what happened between the two of you?"

"A year ago...," I seethe, digging my nails into my head, "December 2014. I was about to pick her up and go to an amusement park. She and her mom were being harassed by some drunk asshole on the side of the road and nobody would help. So I...I dunno, I just, I _lost_ it. Right in front of her, her and her mother and I--the things I _did_ to him, I, she...she never looked at me the same way again."

Cat actually looks mournful for a second there, "I see."

"She was shaking the whole time she was on trial. Even when she was willing to take the stand for me she couldn't hide how terrified she was. She didn't visit me _once_ throughout my entire stint in jail. And God, I needed her, I needed to see her because I--everything I saw, everything I felt, I wanted to see her at least _once_ , and by the time I finally got out she'd look at me like I was a monster. She said--she said that she thought I was--that I--"

"She's been blaming herself likely all her life," sighs the cat. "After what you did to that man, she must have blamed herself for getting you thrown in jail. I suppose maybe that's when the distortion really took root. What happened with her mother...must have further driven her to hate herself."

"And now she sees me as a seven-headed beast."

"She can't help this. She's not in control over her cognitions. All of that, what you saw then, is what she's keeping from herself and the rest of the world."

"I feel like such a stupid asshole."

"You couldn't have known."

"I've been with her for so long without even knowing her."

"In all fairness, she doesn't even know herself. She's hurtling towards her own self-destruction. With what's happened to her Treasure, she's ready and willing and able to just end it all. If she can't have her Treasure, then she might as well not have anything. Once she reaches a breaking point everything she's pushing down will erupt in ways she won't be able to control, and then--"

"And then she'll be gone."

"...yes."

"Isn't there _anything_ I can do that doesn't involve the Palace?"

"No. At this point...I think it's only a matter of time before--"

"You just _had_ to leap right at the Treasure, huh?" I growl at it. "What the hell were you thinking? You likely exacerbated her instabilities--!"

"Her Treasure is ripe for the plundering."

"What?"

"Usually what would need to happen is some...event in the real world which triggers the manifestation of her Treasure in the cognitive world. She needs to know that her deepest desires can be taken away from her, is the idea. But because of what happened to her mother and her daughter, her Treasure's manifested _all the time_. She's now always aware of how easily her desires can be stolen away from her, and because of that her Palace is now completely unstable and in an exceptionally precarious position. I'm positive that stealing her desires will give her the best possible chance at healing from all this trauma."

"What if we make a mistake? What if--what if because everything's so out of control stealing the Treasure ends up _killing her or something--?"_

"No matter which way you look at it, she's already dead."

" _Don't say that_!"

"You can't afford to be indecisive now!" the cat shouts. "She's at a tipping point. Either you change her heart or her heart stops beating. Damned if you do, damned if you don't!"

I can say nothing because all I feel is afraid, angry, emotionally ravaged and thinking _Every choice I've made up to this point has been wrong._

"Worst case scenario is she kills herself even if we steal the Treasure," I shudder, if only to myself.

"But best case scenario is she realizes how self-destructive she's been. How her obsessions have done nothing for her or those around her. And then, maybe, just maybe, she'll find it in herself to change for the better. Trust me, if we had left her to her own devices, she'd have fallen down this hole sooner or later."

That world is her distortions come alive. If I destroy it, perhaps she will be safe. The curse will be lifted, and she will be herself once more. She will be able to move on. Move on from her past, from the horrors that have happened here, and she'll be able to find happiness once more. Perhaps she'll find hope in the future, once more.

And she'll be able to do so without me.

"Dear God, what kind of person am I?" I laugh a little, shaking my head. "She said she pushed Masako into garbage bins and tried to leave her there. I didn't know her at all."

"You've done everything you possibly could."

Her emotions are hers, but they are vile. Her perceptions of reality are hers, but they will destroy her. Cripple her. They already have. If I do not save her, then how can she save herself? Words can't heal her, I can't save her, and she'll be isolated from me, the only person she _knows the way she does_ and has left.

But. Supposing I do decide to go for it.  "How are you and I supposed to stand up against that monster?"

The cat smiles. It smiles wider than it ever had, and its eyes bloom bright enough to gleam almost like the sun. "I can show you."

I narrow my eyes at it. "Can you show me now?"

"Are you sure?" it asks. "I absolutely can. But are you _sure_?"

"What are you going to _do_ to me?"

"Hopefully, set you free. There's another place we can go. There, we can train. You can exercise your power and ensure you've got what it takes to save her. It's a den full of Shadows, big and small, and all of them hate your guts and wanna eat 'em right outta ya. As far as I'm concerned, Kana Kohaku's Palace is a bit too much for us as it stands. Might as well increase our chances every way we can."

"A den full of Shadows."

"One wrong move and you're dead. You still wanna go for it?"

"How are you so sure I actually have this power?"

"Everyone has this power. Deep in themselves. You entered the Vortex World, which means you almost certainly can harness it. If you want this power, I can show you how to get it. I can help you develop it. I can help you channel your very soul. Do you want it?"

It takes me so much longer than it ought to, to say, "Yes."

"Alright. Get out your phone."

Phone in hand. App open.

**Palace Ruler:  
Palace Location:  
Palace Distortion:**

"Not here," it says, looking at the screen. "Lemme see...scroll down."

Two folders emerge once my thumb scrolls downward:

**「ENTER KINGDOM」**

**「ENTER MEMENTOS」**

Cat smirks. "Had a feeling."

"What?"

"Hit the second folder."

"Wait, what the hell is _Mementos_?"

"You're so overly cautious," the cat sighs. "I'll explain once we get there."

"What _is it_?" I insist.

"It's _everyone's_ Palace. The collective unconscious of the general public. Of everyone in all the world. Happy now?"

I can say nothing to that, absolutely nothing.

**Would you like to enter MEMENTOS?  
Y/N**

For the past year and a half I've only been making one mistake after another.

Maybe the only way I can actually fix anything is by taking a chance and praying it works.

So I do.

* * *

[**「ENTERING MEMENTOS」  
** ](https://youtu.be/4EC4yO5ckzE?t=76)

**-ENTERING REGION OF QIMRANUT-**

Lightning flashes and burns and flourishes as the skies turn black and empty, bereft of stars or snowflakes or raindrops. The sounds crackle and thrash and roar as the ground shakes violently, as though someone's grabbed the whole planet itself and decided to jostle it about in the solar system.

Soon I see everything around me shift and change beyond anything I could have ever dreamed. A harsh black light erupts into existence a thousand miles up above. The world bends itself in the form of a sphere and I see the buildings in the furthest horizons being pulled upward and curled like a rug-I see all corners of the city rise and merge into this indescribable mass of buildings, many of which grind and crash and crumble into each other. As if the whole of the city was a piece of paper, now being crumpled into a ball by cosmic, unseen hands. And as the thunder rages on, as the lightning flashes, a voice I recognize as my own screams and whispers into my bones at the same time.

There are words that I never want to repeat being rammed into my ears, and unrelenting sensations that cause my heart to pound through my ribs and my insides to freeze over. I am trembling now, and I am on my knees, and I'm covering my head with my hands and closing my eyes because I don't wanna see it I don't wanna hear it I don't wanna know it even exists but I do and I do and I never can stop knowing it exists. I'm holding myself and I'm shuddering and I'm scared and I don't want to see it, I don't want to describe it, I don't even want to hear it because being just in proximity to it, just knowing it's there makes me feel as though I'm slowly going to go mad, madder than I've already gone. I fall to the ground, like my arms and kneecaps suddenly weigh a thousand pounds. I cannot get up, I haven't even the strength to move.

Soon enough the lightning turns into screams and the thunder sounds like weeping. By the time I regain the courage to open my eyes, I find I've crumpled my body up into a ball and I see what has become of the city. Patches of buildings, roads, and general signs of civilization have survived, if only barely. Most of the world is coated in mountains of rubble, or pale-white desert sands that to the untrained eye would resemble snow or ash. There is no sun, only a black star at the core of distorted, warped, inverted world.

The cat turns to me, and says, "Welcome to Mementos."

It's returned to its bizarre cartoon form and its got its little paw-hands folded like it's trynna be some kinda cool superhero.

Slowly I manage to rise to my feet and decide to make myself feel no such thing as fear. So all the terror and disgust and nightmares I push to the back of my mind, and even as my legs shake and my eyes twitch and my left hand jitters I make myself take everything in.

"Everyone's...Palace, huh?"

"Individuals aren't the only ones who possess Palaces, because there isn't _just_ an individual consciousness. All humanity's minds are part of a grand sea. Therefore, it follows that all humanity's collective consciousness can itself form a Palace, if the people collectively have a distorted desire."

I very nearly break out into laughter then, because everything I've determined about us as a species from history books has been proven right after all. But instead I ask, "So what's _this_ place's distortion?"

"Honestly? Dunno."

"You don't _know_?"

"Easy to tell what kind of distortion swallows up an individual. Not the same with millions, if not billions. The closest thing I can think to a source is _that thing_ , right there."

And he points to the black sun at the core of this inverted world. Impossibly, despite its darkness it emanates a bizarre type of light, and shines upon the world almost like how a moon would project its glow from a dark night sky. As terrifying as it sounds it is the only light that lies within this bleak world.

"If we get to it," he continues, "I've a good feeling we'll be able to determine what's wrong with everyone."

Something's off, though. "You said this is humanity's Palace. If so, it should be bigger."

"Bigger?"

"From what buildings are left...I can only recognize ones from Tokyo. Why's the distortion all concentrated _here_?"

It shrugs. "I don't know the reason for that, either."

I groan, "Why'd you bring me here? What could I possibly--?"

"You need to awaken within yourself a will of rebellion."

"Could you use simple words for just once? _Vortex World, Mementos, Palaces, Kingdoms_ , I've been thrown terminologies I don't understand for the past forty-eight hours--"

And it just interrupts me! "A Shadow is born when someone rejects a part of themselves. For as much as they'd like, the parts of themselves they hate will never go away. They'll fester and thrash around and ravage their insides. It rears its ugly head in ways they couldn't have possibly imagined. But if you get the courage and the will to face those aspects of yourself, your Shadow will become a mask that can conquer whole worlds. Your very self made into power."

"You think throwing me in here'll help me manifest that power?"

"I think you need to vent out everything that you've got boiling inside you. And this might be the best way to do it. So." It leaps up into the air, and comes back down a bus. "Care to go on a ride?"

...what the hell.

I get into the front seat and turn on the ignition.

* * *

The Nav reads **-REGION OF QIMRANUT-**

We drive for what feels like hours. Though screams and roars and inhuman noises bellow in the distance we encounter nothing yet, nothing like the beast in Kana's Palace.

It's cold. Cold enough for my breath to be visible, for my fingers to tremble, for my teeth to chatter.

"You're sure being here'll get me the power I need to save Kana?" I ask the catbus.

"No. But can't hurt to give it a shot, right?"

"You said this place was a den of Shadows, but...so far nothing's really come by as of yet."

"Honestly yeah, it's kinda weird. Usually they're roaming around the place a lot more...maybe the December weather's pressuring 'em to stay out of the light."

"What can we expect?"

"Shadows take the form of mythological creatures. You can expect all manner of weird abominations, generally speaking."

What? "Mythological creatures? Why?"

"Look at it this way: humans make up these fantastical beasts and heroes and legends, and use them to tell stories, teach lessons, entertain others, or even have them be the central figures of their religion. The thing is all these creatures are _still_ aspects of humanity. They're as much a part of the human consciousness as they are their own entities, brought to life by human belief. Gods and demons and angels and spirits, all of them are themselves, as well as a part of you."

Honestly accepting all this insanity seems like the best route for me right now. "So you've thrown me in a field of _gods_?"

"No. We're in a smaller region of Mementos. Only weak Shadows move around here. Weak enough for you to fight."

Fight. Okay.

God damn it. I expected something like this.

It's settling in now. "I...have no combat training or anything of the sort."

"I know."

"So what do you expect me to do?"

"Get roughed up a bit until you awaken to your power."

"What if they kill me?"

"These guys might wound you, but I can heal you up well enough."

"Didn't answer my question. What if they _kill_ me?"

"They _won't_ kill you."

"And you're so sure how?"

"Because you're a man on a mission, and if there's anyone that can summon a--"

In the span of a second, a blur rushes in.

_**BOOM** _

By the time my eyes are able to open, I'm prying my face up off the white sand, my clothes and hair coated in particles and mess; the cat remains a bus, but it's lying on its side as if it were dead. Its windows and doors have been smashed open and its side has been dented, and the only sound it can produce is a grating _MrrRrROwWwWW._

"Are--are you okay!?"

In a cloud of smoke the bus reverts back into a semi-humanoid cat form and its bulbous head bleeds out black. It groans as I run right towards it and try to tend to its wounds, but I see its eyes flare and pupils shrink into shards-- "Who...?"it mutters, glaring and snarling and seething, **" _WHO_!?"**

But even as it seethes and rages, it's far too weak and broken to keep itself conscious, and soon enough it closes its eyes--and the second I blink, I see it's reverted back into the body of an actual cat.

Meaning that I am stuck in the middle of a barren wasteland, practically alone, to face a creature beyond my imagining.

And I wonder just _what_ could have attacked the bus so suddenly? What could have sent it flying, crashing down?

Then, I hear laughter--bellowing, loud and proud, with a distinct European accent...

Spanish?

 **O wandering soul, lost in these desert wastes in search of a challenge...** **The flames of thy Candelabrum beckon me to the battlefield!**

The voice I hear having come directly behind me and I see--

A skeleton, wearing a green bullfighter's suit with golden patterns lining the sleeves. He bears a _montera_ atop his head, and a white scarf around his neck. Though he may be a walking pile of bones he stands tall and proud, with a red capote in one hand and a silver scimitar in the other. His skull is hollow yet even in the dark holes of his eyes he's able to glare deep into the well of my soul.

**Little boy, art thou lost? Have you come to this barren waste in search of glory or war or riches?**

And I cannot answer. For I am scared to death. So scared I can't even move.

**I do not know who you are. But if you have a Candelabrum, then it is our destiny to fight.**

_Candelabrum_ rings in my ears, and for a second I don't understand what he's saying in the face of all the heart-stopping _fear_ I feel raging inside me--but I remember. I remember a man in my dreams in a purple suit, his hand bearing a multi-armed candle-holder that held flames which could consume whole worlds--

**You bear a Candelabrum in thy heart of hearts. The will to power has been imparted unto thee, and therefore you are a man who may yet change the world itself.**

"What the hell even are you...?" is all I can mutter, slowly rising to my feet and clenching my fists.

**Only those whose hearts are overwhelmed by desire can bear such impressive fruit. The distortion in thy heart has been accepted as thy own... Impressive. Yet only the greatest warriors are worthy of such potential. The Morning Star has seen in you something of supreme value. Yet in you I find nothing more than a grain of sand in a desert; a speck that lacks merit or strength. Intelligence thrives in you but not experience--only fear, unstoppably crippling. In you I see a grotesque vermin unworthy of the Candelabrum.**

I growl at it because I'm so goddamn sick of being confused all the time, "I never _asked_ for the Candelabrum--"

**Oh you did, yes you did. You recognized thy heart's desire and accepted it as thine own, yet you still stand at the crossroads of restraint. For you fear hypocrisy, you fear destruction, you fear being imprisoned in unending misery. Your cowardice is irreconcilable with the heart of one who bears a Candelabrum!**

He raises his blade and his blood-red cloth and gets into a battle stance, his black eyes seeming to drain the light out of everything around him.

**I challenge you to a duel, to see if you are truly worthy of the Candelabrum. I swear, by my sword and my capote, that I will emerge victorious!**

"Now wait just a _second--!"_

 **Game--** a flurry of slashes cuts up my arms and my legs and kills vital nerves and causes blood to pour everywhere **\--Set--** and as the red floods out of me I feel a thousand stabs piercing my guts and my spine and my torso and my lungs **\--Match!**

By the time I realize what's happened my whole body pours out unconscionable amounts of blood from every limb and my whole torso is on fire. The gaping wounds expose bone and muscle and gristle and my stomach has burst open to let out my intestines upon the sand. The tendons of my ankles have been cut open, as have the joints in my knees, my wrists, my shoulders, my elbows, and thus I can do nothing but crumple into my agonized self as I let out blood all over.

I haven't the strength to scream.

I haven't the strength to cry.

I can only think of Kana and how I've failed her once again.

* * *

The world turns black, like an endless void. 

I see a man in a purple suit, standing off in the distance. There is a woman beside him; a young woman in black mourner's garb, whose face is obscured by a veil. 

"Poor human. It is my honor to tell you that my master has shown quite an interest in you. As such, he seeks to grant you a gift; it is vital you receive it, if you wish to survive."

I blink then, but the second I reopen my eyes I find I'm lying flat on my back, staring up at the woman and the man in the suit.

"Please hold still," she says, stretching her arms to hold me down. "It will hurt only for a moment."

The man holds up what looks like a mask; a blank, white mask.

"The distortion in your heart has reached a boiling point. Do you dare shirk from your desire now?"

Desire?

"Remember what I had told you. In your youth you'd called to me and I came. I've remained dormant inside you for all your life, and now you are at a point where the one you cherish is to be trapped. Trapped in an unending spiral of torment and grief and where the only freedom can be found at the end of her life. But is that the freedom you seek for her?"

No.

"Is that the freedom you seek for yourself?"

No.

"Do you seek the power to save the one you love?"

Yes.

"Do you believe in God?"

No.

"Do you believe in justice and injustice? Good and evil?"

No.

"Then what do you believe in?"

I believe...

...that all men ought to be free.

Free to form their own code and live their lives the way they wish, with no oppression from the world beyond. Free to embrace their desire and exercise their will upon a chaotic world. Free to grapple existence by the horns and challenge whatever they wish to challenge, achieve what they wish to achieve, and believe whatever they wish to believe in.

"And yet you seek to free her heart of its darkness, regardless of _her_ desires or wishes."

Yes.

God help me, yes.

Because even that hypocrisy is of my free will.

"What a paradox. Indeed, you are like myself in every single way. In the pursuit of freedom, embrace sorcery and sin and strife. Do you accept the power I offer?"

Yes.

Let us make a pact.

"Very well, Emancipator. I bestow upon you, the power of the Wild Card."

The mask is forced upon my eyes and my brain starts snapping, there's an unquenchable noise rummaging around in the corners of my mind. The noise is loud and it's making my head shake and I don't want it to stop. I don't want it to stop because it feels good, too good, too unbearable to reject or ignore or cover my ears at.

It becomes a void instantaneously, giving me no time to process what is happening, what kind of deal I have just struck. And I feel nothing. I should feel something, but I feel nothing. I do not know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I want more.

The noise rises louder and louder and my body grows blacker and blacker, as my face deforms and conforms and _cracks_ the bone of my skull yet not letting me feel pain at all, a steel mask cups my face. Allowing only my eyes to shine through.

And then a black shadow rises up from behind me, rises from my back and the pain is excruciating but I remain still. My spine is being torn, my shoulder blades splitting apart down their middles and it hurts it hurts so much it's bleeding it's bleeding out red and bleeding out black and I can't make it stop, I can't make it stop, I don't want it to ever stop, I _want_ it to keep on bleeding and hurting.

I want this pain to rip me to shreds. 

There is a great beast rising up from the bowels of my own iniquity. The beast glares at me with bright red eyes, furious and proud and tall, and it bears six wings that span the darkness surrounding me.

When I ask him his name, he says

**Thou art I. I am thou.**

* * *

And as I rise from the bloodied sands a cloak forms around me, a black cloak ornamented with silver accents that all resemble spirals. The hem of the cloak then ties itself into my skin, into my muscles, into my nerves. I should be feeling pain, I should be screaming out in abject agony as I feel an abomination seep into my veins, but I feel nothing. I can feel the tendrils sinking into my skin, into my pores, into my ears, into my nostrils, into my _nails,_ into _every orifice_ of my body except for my eyes.

**Damnation is thy fate and agony thy triumph.**

The Matador rears back, bringing its capote up to its face as the red stops dripping and the pain dies out entirely. I let myself smile, I let myself laugh in exactly the manner I had when I brutalized Shido into the dirt, and I glare at the skeleton bullfighter as my eyes scream at me to rip them out of their sockets.

**Forever thou shalt be cast into Hell for thy blasphemous hypocrisy.**

The mask on my face takes all my strength to pry off and when I do I feel the skin tear away, and I scream I laugh I sob at all the rapturous pain and I let out a smile wider than any I've made in the past year alone.

The cat, awakened from its slumber, can only watch as the chains fly from my feet and hover 'round my body. "Wh-what the--!?"

Walking on air and breathing fire from my lungs I shout _"_ Come to me! _Persona!"_

**Indeed. If for the sake of emancipation,  
May thou perform even the highest sacrilege.**

He bears six wings that are thrice the size of his body. A three-foot long silver rifle in his left hand and a five-foot long black sword in his right. Through his golden horned helm he glares at The Matador with blood-red eyes and a scowl. He wears the black suit of an admiral, with golden tassels decorating the hems and edges and a red sash worn over his left shoulder.

**I am Satanael, Emancipator of Man.**

And The Matador laughs, he laughs and laughs and laughs as pillars of flame erupt from every which way. He laughs as I send nuclear hell raining down upon him from the heavens, and he dances and dashes and frolics like a child in a field, and I decide to howl out my own laughter right back at him.

And the world trembles and thrashes around and the sensation is glorious, absolutely glorious as I unleash the elements and the fury and the madness, I've never felt more alive, more at peace, more pleased with myself and more powerful and as I laugh and keep laughing I hear the cat and it tells me _"STOP!!!"_

And I return to my senses.

The next three miles of desert field are coated in craters, burns, and pillars of ice.

Yet The Matador stands proud and unharmed at the center of it all.

 **Clumsy** **,** it chuckles. **Reckless. But undeniably powerful.**

And then he laughs again. He laughs very loudly, as though desiring nothing more than to spear me a million times, and bleed me a billion more.

 **Very well!** it declares, twirling around in a flurry of red, vanishing into darkness.

"Hey, w-wait!" the cat cries out.

**Until next time, Emancipator! Allow your newfound strength to flourish and blossom into marvellous violence! 'Til then I shall await you in the dark. Pursue power and freedom, and I shall challenge thee once again in due time.**

The cat, still wounded, can do nothing but stare up at me. Up at the six-winged demon lord at my back. In awe and horror he stands in stunned silence, not even bothering to heal.

But all I can think of is how I feel like I'm truly living for the first time, while simultaneously asking over and over again _what have I done?_

* * *

The cat heals itself and we get back to the real world and it chats a ton about how _awesome_ my Persona is and how it's glad I've attained my will of rebellion and how with my powers I'll definitely be able to challenge Kana's Shadow and get her Treasure the hell outta there but I don't listen.

I don't listen because The Matador's words bug the hell out of me.

So as it chatters on and as it gets annoyed with my half-responses I pull up my new phone and tap at one of the folders in the app--

And I realize.

* * *

**「** **What is a KINGDOM?」**

→ **When the human heart is DISTORTED, a PALACE is formed in the VORTEX WORLD.  
→ But if a man with a DISTORTED heart becomes aware of the DISTORTION, he may accept it as his own.  
→ At that point, a PALACE becomes a KINGDOM, and his SHADOW becomes a PERSONA.  
→ The TREASURE, which had once taken the form of one's unconscious desires, physically manifests in the form of a CANDELABRUM.  
****→ For in one's acceptance of obsession, their heart burns a thousand fold with determination.**

* * *

I realize that Kana's not the only one with a distorted heart after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEXT CHAPTER IS THE FINAL ONE FOR THIS ARC  
> RULES GONNA BE ESTABLISHED FINALLY NEXT CHAPTER  
> HOPE YA'LL READY  
> LLLLLLETS GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEEE


	10. I Love You, So Much

**12/26/2015**

I wake up at 1:00 PM.

The whole affair with The Matador and my _Persona_ left me beyond exhausted, so after learning what the hell a Kingdom was I decided to just shuffle back in the house, fall on the couch, and sleep for what felt like years.

When I go upstairs I find her awake, staring out the window of my room, sitting at my desk.

It's a blank stare, almost as though she's staring through everything outside, not at them.

"Kana?"

She blinks once, twice, then turns around to face me. "K-Kazuya."

For a moment, only a moment, she looks at me the way she did when I visited her house again. Scared and uncertain and hesitant. But she makes herself look stronger, keeps her eyes firmly on me. Though she tries her best, the more she tries, the more she looks so sad.

Three of the fingers on my left hand begin twitching. "You've eaten breakfast?"

She nods. "You've been sleeping a lot more lately..."

"There's a lot on my mind."

"Mine, too," she nods. "Listen, I, uh...I need to tell you, that..."

"You're leaving in a few days. Right?"

She lets a little smile come through, "Yeah. I am. Your dad told you?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

"You didn't have to."

She looks at me, more confused than anything. "No. No, I should have, I—" she gets up out of the bed, walking over to me, "—there's, I know I haven't, I haven't been—"

I put my hands on her shoulders, and look her right in the eye. "I understand. Okay?"

"...okay."

"I know it's been difficult for you. I can't imagine it'd be any other way. All this time, you've just been doing what you've had to. So I understand."

Her brows furrow as she tells me, "Recently I've been hearing you shout at night. Outside the house. I could never hear exactly what you were saying, but...it's been hard for you, too, huh?"

"No, but...no."

"Yeah."

I take her by her hands and together we walk over to my bed. I'm first to sit down and she follows soon after, and I tell her, "Do you remember what I said to you a year ago? After I told you I liked you?"

"What do you think you're doing, Kazuya?"

"Do you remember what I told you?"

She shakes her head. "There were a lot of things you said to me after you told me you liked me."

"I told you that you weren't a burden. Do you remember?"

It takes her so long before she finds it in herself to say, "Yes."

"I told you that I _chose_ to help you. That it was my decision. Do you remember that?"

"Yes." She actually manages to chuckle a little, "I didn't want to let you know how it felt to hear you say that."

"How it felt...?"

"For the longest time, I thought you were kind of an asshole, you know?" She says that so suddenly and when she does her eyes grow dull and dark. She starts running a finger along the lines of my twitchy left hand and I can say and do nothing. "Only reason you wanted to help me and Masako was because you went through the same thing she did. You talk a big game and you know so much, but you can only reach a hand out to people when they relate to you. So really, what good _are_ you?"

And I just look at her.

But she's not looking at me at all.

"I don't know what love is. I told you that day that nobody can _really_ be sure about who they love or like or whatever. And you kept on pushing because you were so certain. And I believed you because why the hell not? Bet you regret it now, don't you. And I know what you're gonna say. _I regret so many things, but not meeting you._ "

What the hell is even _happening_ right now? "Kana, I—"

"Did you know I stuffed Masako into a garbage can?"

Yes I do. Damn it all, I do. " _Kana —_"

"Wasn't just one time, either. Two, maybe three or four. Lost count, and you didn't know at all. Mom didn't know, either. And you were both workin' round the clock to help me and her without knowing a single thing. I thought you were supposed to be smart."

And her nails dig into my hand, agitating the scar tissue and the tooth marks—"Kana, _I..._!"

"You could change the world with how much you know and what you want to _do_ , but instead you waste all your time telling people you don't even know how much you love them."

I rip her hands off mine and jump off the bed. Blood drips down from the palm of my left hand and in an instant I see her change. She's not looking away from me, not looking past me; her eyes pierce into mine, and they're clearer than they've ever been.

The world around us shifts into darkness, and I see her in purple robes, her body below the head bereft of its skin. In her left hand she holds a baby's skeleton wrapped in red linen.

**"You cannot stop what is coming. If you want to live your life free of this madness, then abandon every delusion you have of saving me."**

I blink. And I see Kana, smiling genuinely for the first time since the day I met her.

"I don't want you to save me, Kazuya. I don't even want you to love me. I just want the whole world to forget I ever existed."

* * *

That day, just before Kana's mother attacked us, I knew exactly what I would've told her. As she sat there, holding her head in her hands, crying alongside her daughter over how I'd nearly murdered a man for her.

I would've asked her what she would've done if our roles had reversed. Would she have allowed me to be smacked around, in the middle of the street, by a violently drunk man who almost certainly would have injured me if given the chance? Obviously, she'd have said no. She'd have called the police, or tried to fight back against him herself, to defend me.

If that didn't work, I would've told her she had done everything she could at the trial. The judges had themselves decreed that it wasn't enough, but it was hardly her fault that that was the case.

If that didn't work, I would've asked her if she'd have blamed her mother for failing to provide ample enough testimony to sway the judges' final decision. She would've said no, because she couldn't blame her mother for such a thing-and I would have asked her why she was blaming herself for it.

And if none of that worked at all, I would've just told her that I love her. And all that mattered to me was that she was right by my side again, after a year of being without her, and she didn't need to blame herself for anything.

How could I have been so stupid?

In the middle of the night I stand right outside my house, the cat at my feet. "I'll be able to do it?"

"Absolutely."

"You're sure?"

"Hundred percent."

"Is my... _Persona_ really that strong?"

"Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. What more do you want from me?"

"Well. I dunno. Just...more context I guess."

"Into _what_?"

"Is it...normal for Personas to be—?"

" _No._ "

"No?"

"Especially your initial one. I mean—it's supposed to be _awesome_ , don't get me wrong, but, a starting Persona isn't normally anywhere _near_ as strong as yours is."

"Lucky me, then."

"And all your wounds healed up too!" it laughed. "Look at you, it's like you were never hurt!"

"You said we were in a region with weak Shadows. Guy who knocked you flat on your side didn't seem very weak, did he?"

"Look, I dunno where that guy came from, but he just straight-up didn't belong where we were. Shadows there typically shouldn't be able to harm us the way he did."

"Where _could_ he have come from?"

"Obviously, another region of Mementos. Though it's odd...Shadows typically don't leave wherever they've come from. You got any idea why he attacked us? Was knocked out for most of the fight."

I remember talk of a Candelabrum. "No idea."

"I see. In any case, your Persona can _totally_ handle Kana's Shadow as well as her cognition of you!"

"To be fair, I failed to kill the Matador. My attacks barely even hit him..."

"Honestly, he's on a _completely_ different level," Cat says. "Comparing him to the cognition of you—the two aren't even close."

"How much stronger is Kana's beast, you think?"

"No, The Matador was _way_ more powerful."

I laugh, very loudly, "You _sure_!?"

"Positive."

"I don't know about that. Between the two of them, one breathes fire and honestly would need like a thousand missiles to—"

"Not exactly! He may be bigger, but he's slower and dumber and honestly looks like he's on the verge of death all the time. And besides, I can _feel_ the difference in strength. You can kill that thing no problem, with your Persona!"

"What do you mean, you can _feel_ the difference strength?"

"I just can! I _know_ you can kill it! If you survived the Matador, you'll definitely survive against Kana's cognitive version of you! Prolly even put it down!"

"Is there another term for it? Because _cognitive version_ is a little mouthy."

"Fine. Manikin."

"Mannequin?"

"No. _Manikin_."

"...okay?"

"Yeah. It's what I call 'em. Had a feeling you didn't want to hear _another_ word that wouldn't have made sense to you at the time."

"Did you just come up with that now?"

"Maybe?"

" _Maybe_?"

"Part of me felt they were always called that, I guess."

"Another one of your lost memories?"

"I suppose. But anyway! A Manikin—a cognitive version of someone—doesn't hold a candle to a Persona as powerful as yours! Even if it's big and has seven heads and is scary as all hell!"

"Will killing it have any lasting effects on her psyche?"

"Actually, probably not."

" _Probably_ not?"

"If you kill it, it actually has a chance of coming back."

"Oh come _on_."

"But it'll take a while! It'll come back as long as the Treasure's there! Get rid of the Treasure, get rid of literally everything else! But _first_ we gotta get rid of the monster! It's the only one standing between us and the Treasure!"

"What if Kana's Shadow won't give it up? Would killing her be—?"

"Okay _that's_ bad. Don't kill her Shadow, no matter what. _That_ will absolutely kill her."

I glare at it, "Tell me _now_ , huh?"

"As long as we get the Treasure, I'm sure she'll be fine!"

"And if she won't let the Treasure out of her hands—?"

"We _will_. We have no choice but to."

"What if we _can't_ take it? What if, even if we do manage to get it, she won't let us leave?"

"Then we destroy it!"

What? "So killing her Shadow will cause problems, but destroying the source of her desire won't?"

"As long as it disappears, it'll be alright!"

"Yeah. But she's unstable as she is. Will probably be more trouble than it's worth."

"That's our last resort. We deal with it as it comes."

I face my house.

I face the night sky.

I think of everything we've been through. Of how much of a lie it had all been. Of how little I knew her and how little she must have loved me. Of everything I could have and should have tried, to save her before it was too late.

Everything I should have known.

"You couldn't have predicted any of this," the cat says. "She wouldn't tell you. Not even a little."

"She didn't think I was worth telling."

"I can't know for sure. Neither can you. But we can assume that she didn't want to burden you."

Too late. "You ready to go now?"

"Are _you_?"

"I feel more alive now than I've felt in the past two years. If I let this momentum go down in any way I'll be wasting everything. We go _now_."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I have a plan."

"A plan?"

"I'll tell you. Come up with anything better, if you think it sucks."

"Lay it on me."

"How fast can you go when you're a car, and how good is your grip?"

* * *

"You're absolutely insane, you know."

"If anything, I have to be."

"You realize that that could easily get you killed, right?"

"Can't afford to fight that thing head-on. Getting Kana's Shadow as far away from it as possible's our best bet."

"If this doesn't work, you're dead."

"And if it does, the Treasure's yours."

"Good that you know how to speak my language."

When we march right back into Kana's Palace everything is as it had been left.

But the large, seven-headed monstrosity is now glaring directly at me. In fact, judging from its stance, it must have kept its heads locked on the spot I've arrived in, even before I made my re-entry.

And this titanous monstrous disgusting thing, this beast that Kana thinks is me, is hunched over and standing still, in the middle of this godforsaken nuclear wasteland. Even though surrounding us are hundreds of walking dead and dying, even though tall ruins of buildings hang over myself and the cat and the rotting Manikins, I know it's looking directly at _me_.

She stands atop the fourth head, the baby bones in her arms. Again, despite the distance I see her so clearly—and she bears a face unlike any I've seen out of Kana before.

As the towering monstrosity nears me, lurching absentmindedly as it does, its mouth opens wider and wider, and I stare it down because all I can think of is how I can obtain the Treasure, how I can destroy this monster, and how I can escape this place without dying.

So that I may at the very least leave her with the chance to be free.

"It's now or never!" exclaims the cat.

"Now."

The cat morphs into a bus as black fire consumes my bones. I should be feeling pain, I should be screaming out in abject agony as I feel an abomination seep into my veins, but I feel nothing. I can feel the tendrils sinking into my skin, into my pores, into my ears, into my nostrils, into my _nails,_ into _every orifice_ of my body except for my eyes.

My coat and the vest I wear underneath is slick black leather, but the pants are kind of baggy, ruggedly stitched together and lightweight. My shoes are a little pointed but they don't impede my movement at all, and over my hands are a pair of blood-red leather gloves.

Over my eyes a white mask forms, and through this mask I watch as the beast charges, its sixteen massive pillar-legs coming at me faster, faster than a creature its size has any right to be.

" _Kazuya, get in!"_

So I get in the cat bus and drive forward, charging past the walking fallout victims and we drive on and on and on for a hundred more miles as the distance between us and the monster closes and it bellows, it bellows so loudly I feel as though my eardrums are full to bursting and its fourth head starts coughing up blue fire.

And we drive we drive fast enough such that we're only about a couple yards away as the six other heads open their maws and spit and spew _nuclear sparks_ and they blare out their rays like they're fucking Godzilla but by the grace of God we manage to get under its belly before any of the blasts can hit us.

I'm all but certain now, though, that I've contracted cancer from proximity alone, don't freak out, don't lose it, don't piss and bitch and moan now, you fucking stupid piece of shit, _this is your last chance._

We make it past its sixteen pillar-legs, past the thousands of cow udders spewing blood down, down, down upon us, and though the cat tries to steer clear of the infected sludge he still slips and slides and careens all around because it's all just so goddamned gross and vile—

"Faster."

" _Goin' as fast as I can —_"

" _FASTER!"_

The beast is slow and dumb and though its many legs stomp around in an attempt to crush us, they're never able to smash into us directly. Its naturally bow-legged stance, coupled with the fact that each leg's packed with thousand-pound muscles, means that it can't exactly arc its legs inward in any quick or straightforward manner. Some of them even crash into each other trying to get to us and in all the madness the feet crash down like thunder, causing craters and booming noises that blare all around me, the beast's seven heads roar in fury and make my head shake, I breathe heavily as my spine seizes up and all my nerves tingle and shiver and I realize far too late that I've been laughing for God knows how long—

"Kazuya, _now_!"

Catbus poofs back into its regular old bobble-headed self and the momentum carries us a few more meters, tumbling and rolling in the filth for a few seconds, and obviously it hurts like hell, but I pry myself back up quick enough and I see that we're exactly where we need to be.

A couple dozen miles behind it.

_"Persona!"_

Too slow to turn around. Too dumb to think of what I'm planning.

"No time to lose!" cat jumps on my back, "We've only got—"

"One chance."

So Satanael erupts from my head as blood pours down my eyes, and through my bloodstained gaze he looks larger, fiercer, even more glorious than I could've ever envisioned before. In a motion I leap upward, far higher than I have any right to, enough such that I can get a firm grip on the back of my Persona. His six wings flare outward and I let myself laugh again as we take to the skies.

If the thought of it sounds crazy, you weren't crazy enough to begin with.

Kana's Manikin of me barrels throughout the world but has no understanding of it. Can barely put two and two together, and even when the obvious glares at it right in the face, it takes far too long for everything to sink in.

Satanael doesn't fly as quickly as I'd have liked. But he's going a helluva lot faster than the catbus ever did; within seconds we pass the same distance it had taken a minute to charge through just earlier, and by the time I'm even able to recognize how quickly we've flown I see—

I see her.

I see her scowling eyes, I see her holding the linen close to her chest, I see her purple robes billowing outward and I see that she's coming _right up._

" _READY_!?"

We divebomb with all the force of a kamikaze pilot and as the seven heads finally realize what I've just done and as rear upward to reach me with their jaws and I have Satanael disperse into black flame—

" _NOW!"_ I cry out.

I stretch out my arms and the cat leaps up into the air, sticking its hind legs directly into my hands, and it reaches its own front paws just far enough.

**"Treasure."**

The second the cat's able to grab her by her hair it explodes out into a bus again, Kana and I stuck in the back seat.

"Both of you hold on! _Crashlanding in T minus NOW!"_

And before she can do anything, I hold her close, closer than I ever had in the real world, and brace for a world of hurt.

But by the time I wake up, I realize I feel no pain.

Though that tends to be a bad thing, especially when both your legs are bent in ways they shouldn't be.

Everything's gone. My body, my clothes, I'm myself again. I'm wearing a white shirt with black pants _the same white shirt and black pants I entered this place with_ where is the power I've been given where is my power the creature the monster _is right there_.

"Kazuya!" Cat limps up to me. One of its massive eyes is dangling from its head like a keychain. "You alright!?"

"You're asking _me_?"

It just stuffs its eye back into place. "Everything on me hurts, but I can manage, your whole body's—!"

Its words fade into background noise the second I find Kana's Shadow remaining tucked in my arms. Her eyes open soon after mine do. And after everything she's remains strong, clutching the linen to her breast tightly.

But when she faces me, when her blazing golden eyes look into mine she's shocked and appalled. Too late I find that streaks of blood pour from my mouth; that most of the bones on my left arm have shattered upon impact, that I haven't even the strength to sit myself up. And I see her horrified expression but somehow I find myself taken back.

I'm on the rooftop of our school again and she's requesting I help her study. I'm in her home reading a book to Masako as she watches from a distance. I'm walking around Ginza with her and I'm in a train car, so close to holding her hand. I'm in her living room telling her I like her and that she isn't a burden.

 **"Why?"** Kana pleads, tears streaming down her golden eyes. **"Why would you do this to yourself...?"**

I laugh at her, coughing out blood. "If anybody knew you like I do, they'd do exactly the same thing."

But then as I'm telling her these things I look at a large looming shape, lumbering right for us.

I am on the ground and I want to get up I need to get up I don't even feel any pain how am I not getting up. How am I not getting up. How am I even staying still, why can't I feel anything. Why. Why am I like this.

I lift my head up and I see that my limbs are bent in all manner of directions and they are bleeding in ways that would render anyone else dead and dead and dead like I'm gonna be if I don't get up and find a doctor find anyone to fix me heal my wounds I don't wanna die I don't wanna die.

I have to see Kana. I have to see her. There's a world out there without her mother or her father or her daughter I'm all she has left and she's all I've ever had. Everything else, all the money, all the privilege, all my studies, none of them matter. None of them have ever mattered.

She's told me she's a curse, but she's a curse I'm willing to bear. She's told me she's a bad person, but if that's the case then if she's bad I don't wanna be good. I told her promised her _meant it_ that I would never leave her for anything else in this whole wide world because she is _mine_.

I'm making a mistake. And I don't even know it. I should be getting up and out of here right now. But I'm on the ground. I can't feel my legs. I can't even talk because there's a mass in my throat as big as a baseball and I can't breathe and my throat hurts and _I can't feel anything but agony._

I say something, something I hear in my mind, _Victory Cry._

Then I hear the _crack_ ing noise. _Arms_. They creak and crack and sound like rattles as they reform. My right arm and right bicep start piecing themselves together, a thousand little black arms all thinner than a blade of grass gathering them from my wounds and acting as living breathing organic stitches made out of black chaos. The pain is blaring through me now and I'm feeling it it's almost too much to bear like my _body is being skinned open_ I grit my teeth and endure it and make myself feel all of it because it is what I deserve. As my other wounds begin healing and once my leg reforms I stand myself up and I glare at it I glare at the monster and I tell it it won't take Kana Kohaku away from me, tell it with my eyes, through the agony of my bones and through the _grrrinding_ noises my unsightly body makes as it reforms itself—

I think of my Persona but it's hard to think when blood's gushing out of all of you, I think I make myself _think_ but can't remember, I can't remember a single goddamned thing about me at all—t he thousand-foot tall Manikin keeps its seven heads locked on me and the cat and I see through the blue flames and I can feel malignant tumors popping up all over my body just from the proximity of it; even though I'm shielded, even though there's a giant abominable body shrouding my own, I _feel_ the burn and I _feel_ the pain and it starts searing through my skin like I'm in Hiroshima, in Nagasaki—

My body's bent in all manner of directions and it's bleeding in ways that would render anyone else dead and my whole body's coated in sores and boils and cancers that are gonna kill me and even if I survive this I'm gonna be dead, if I don't get up and find a doctor find anyone to fix me heal my wounds I'll be dead and I don't wanna die I don't wanna die I don't wanna die—

It's coming closer its mouth is burning brighter again _again again again_ it'll fry me it'll make me into nothing make me melt I can't feel anything anymore I'm healing but _will it be enough_? I'm suffering _but can't it ever stop_? I'm still alive and my body'll fix itself _but will it last just as long as I need it to?_

I have to run but I can't run I can't run. Kana, Masako, Dad, I can't do it. I thought I could but I can't. I'll die here and I'll die for nothing. The cat's pulling me and I have Kana's Shadow right in my arms, right in my hands, and _I can't do anything for her!?_

My legs—I turn to them and I see they're still painful the pain is still insurmountable and horrible and agonizing and I _can't move move you stupid idiot_ —You promised her, you promised you'd be there for her, promised you'd never leave her, _everyone else she has is gone and you're the only one left the blue is burning burning get up GET UP **GET UP!**_

_**"SATANAEL!"** _

Black robes swallow my body as his six wings bloom like the rays of the sun, spanning the whole of the skies. His giant arms spread open in an almost welcoming gesture, as though himself crucified. His red eyes flows cleanly and freely and he scowls at the beast with pride, and as I gaze upon him all I see is _me._

Another word that makes no sense charges in my mind, and when I say it it rolls right off my tongue: "Megidolaon."

Something white and black and all manner of colors flashes in the air, right on the creature's seven mouths for less than half of a second—and then all I see is red. Like several waterfalls all spilling downwards at once, blood rushes down from the open maws of the creature as pieces of black and red and dark meat _crashes_ to the ground. The seven heads howl out a sad, horrified, torturous wail that is loud enough to be heard on the other side of the universe. The creature staggers, tries to stand, its front legs trembling. The towering monstrosity lifts what's left of its head up one last time before it too _crashes_ to the ground, kicking up rocks and dirt and clouds of dust higher than any skyscraper in all of Japan.

I stare through the smoke, through the dark clouds filling the red skies.

It's one thing to see a corpse of yourself. It's another entirely to see a seven-headed, thousand-foot tall monstrosity with what used to be your face on all its heads, now reduced to stumps at the neck.

And seeing it there, dead like a beached whale...I feel good.

 **"Why would you do this to me?"** I turn to her, and she stares at what's wrapped in her arms so sadly. **"I am damned. Everything I touch turns to ash. Why do you want to take me away from her?"**

"Kana."

**"I've said so many terrible things to you."**

"It's okay."

**"I never trusted you with anything."**

"I understand."

**"I just keep on hurting you."**

"I was never hurt. Not even for a second." And I raise my left hand, newly-healed as if it'd never been hurt at all, I raise it to her face and cup her cheek. "Do you remember what I told you, that night I told you I liked you?"

It takes her so long to answer me, and she doesn't even look at me when she says it.

**"You said...that I and Masako were special to you. That you wouldn't trade either of us in for anyone else."**

In my arms I share the red linen with her and raise my hand to peer away the cloth. She doesn't stop me, not even as tears streak down from her golden eyes.

I see Masako, sleeping peacefully, as beautiful as the day I first saw her. Making little cooing noises and muttering little _Mama_ s.

Kana's Shadow lets herself sob then, and she shudders and wracks her head 'round in shame and anguish and everything that she's kept inside herself, **"I'm sorry she was ever born."**

"I know."

 **"** **You terrify me. You repulse me...,"** She leans her head into my shoulder, **"and I love you."** And I pull her in an embrace, as she keeps Masako close to her and me and all three of us. **"I love you, so much."**

"We've gotta go!" shouts the cat. "Palace is crumbling! Take out your phone!"

So I take Masako and the red linen in my arms, and rise up from the ground. Kana's Shadow remains kneeling in the dirt.

The world begins to shake and tremble then; first slowly and subtly, growing more violent and enraged. In my right hand I hold Masako, and in my left I whip out my phone. The last I see of Kana's Shadow is her holding her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably as the rest of the world collapses into itself.

 **"Please take care of her,"** is the last thing she tells me, as a blue light forms around her and takes her to pieces.

The last thing I tell her is, "Until the day I die."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Advanced all the dates a year later because I can't do math
> 
> • Palaces in this story can evolve into Kingdoms if the person who bears distorted desire recognizes that desire, internalizes it as a part of them, and willingly allows their obsession to consume their identity.  
> • Alternatively, a person can recognize their distortion and let go of their desire, in turn obtaining a Persona without the baggage of a Kingdom. All Kingdom Rulers have Personas, but do all Persona-users have Kingdoms? That remains to be seen.  
> • If you steal the Treasure from a Kingdom Ruler, they'll die, as their distorted desires have been made a conscious part of their identity.  
> • The more distorted a Kingdom Ruler's heart is, the more powerful their Persona.  
> • The Metaverse is now called the Vortex World, and Manikins are what cognitive versions of people are.


	11. The Days I Was With You

Kazuya,

I'm so sorry for what I've done.

There've been all these negative thoughts I've built up inside me since the day I gave birth to Masako and I've wanted nothing more than to be rid of them.

I tried to think they didn't exist, I tried to push it all to the back of my mind.

There was so much I tried to do to stop it, but I could only hold on for so long.

I love you. I know I never told you that until now, but I love you.

I loved you the day you said you'd help me out with studying. I loved you the day you told me about your parents. I loved you the day you told me you wanted to be a Featherman and a detective. And I've loved you every day you stood by me, even when I was at my worst.

I want you to know that I'm sorry for hurting you. I'm sorry I couldn't help you the same way you've helped me. There was absolutely nothing you could have done.

I don't want you to blame yourself. You've done nothing but try to help me, and I'd hate for you to think that what happened to me is somehow your fault.

I'm sorry for everything. Know that I'll always be watching over you, and despite everything that's happened, the days I was with you were some of the happiest I've ever had.

Kana


	12. Cendrillon, the Ash Maiden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"You know the risk... but if those really are the shoes you've chosen,**  
>  **Then dance to the end."**

**4/9/2016**

Train's slow and rumbling and making its noises as I feel cramped, even though I was lucky enough to've found a seat right smack-dab in the middle of the car, on the right wall. The morning sun glares at me from the windows and the radio goes on about things like crimes and statistics, and the buildings of the city just slide by right outside the windows of the train.

When I get off the train and head into Shibuya station, the amount of people covering the streets almost overwhelms me right then and there, but I swallow the fear down and make myself move. The clattering of footsteps and the clamoring of the crowd sinks into my ears. In the streets I just see everything pass me by, and everybody's bodies fade into shapes and blurs. They're all shambling past me, circling around me, swarming and merging into each other. I've been too cooped up for too long.

I see a man holding up a cardboard sign with my name on it. The man is tall and lanky and wears a brown suit. Hair messy, glasses thick. His eyes are the earnest kind, belonging to the sort of people who're too nice for their own good.

He sees me as I approach him and asks, "You're...Hikawa-kun, correct?" I nod. "I'm Takuto Maruki. You'll be in my care."

The two of us head out into the crowds.

Takes about ten minutes to get to his place from Shibuya crossing; guy lives right on the edge of the Higashi district.

Apartment's small and cozy. A few picture frames here and there. A TV in the living room, one small table for meals. Kitchen's got the barest necessities. Old green curtains, paint on the walls showing patches of discoloration. Couch coming apart in a few seams. All in all, good enough.

"Your room's the second door to the right," he says, pointing to a hallway. "You must be tired."

I just take off my shoes and make my way there.

"Hikawa-kun, wait." I turn to face him. "Just wanna let you know, tomorrow we'll be heading to Shujin. I have to introduce you to the staff there."

"Time?"

"One PM."

I nod. He lets a little smile out and nods back.

Like the rest of the place, my room's not got much in the way of decoration. Large bed, white sheets. Clean and crisp. Table next to the bed, bookcase next to the table. Large windows above aforementioned table. Closet built into a wall, with slide-open doors. I leave my luggage next to the bookcase, change my clothes, and fall into bed hoping that I don't wake up.

.

.

.

* * *

**4 / 10 / 2016**

We get to the school at 1PM, after lunch. Maruki and I take the train.

A big bold golden-plated **SHUJIN ACADEMY** hangs on one of the outer walls, next to the gate. School itself's no larger than my previous school, but it looks a helluva lot more boring. Pale white walls and dusty windows that aren't even all that big.

Maruki and I head inside without a word, and within moments I find myself face-to-face with some bloat in a brown suit.

"Just to reiterate. If you cause any trouble in any way, shape, or form, there'll be nowhere left for you to go."

"I understand," I tell him.

Nameplate on his desk says the guy scowling at me's _Principal Kobayakawa_. More than a little overweight, enough such that the chair he's in creaks with even the slightest movements, and that his skin 'round his neck bubbles up over his collar.

"In my opinion," he huffs, expelling more than half the air in his lungs, "you're nothing more than a liability. But we had our own circumstances to consider..."

Naturally. Dad had already made the arrangements many, many months ago. Dunno how much money Dad paid the Blob to allow me in his halls, but hey. Whatever works.

There's a woman at his side who's a lot more easy on the eyes. Big n' Chunky gestures to her, "This is the teacher in charge of your class."

Unkempt hair, long-sleeved yellow shirt with orange stripes, blue skirt. Looks like she drinks more coffee than water. "I'm Sadayo Kawakami. Here's your student ID."

Kawakami passes me a small card kept in a leather pocket; my face, my name, my age, with **SHUJIN ACADEMY STUDENT ID** printed on the top.

"Be sure to read the school rules. Any violations'll get you sent to the guidance office. I won't be able to protect you if you get caught up in something. From here on out, your actions are your responsibility."

I just nod.

Porker turns to my probationary officer, "Maruki-san, please keep a close eye on him."

Maruki actually looks a little annoyed at that, "I will. I intend to have a serious discussion with him when we get home."

"Come to the faculty office once you arrive to school tomorrow," says Kawakami. "I'll show you to your classroom."

Again, I just nod.

* * *

Traffic's a bitch.

We don't exchange a single word on the way back. Once we _do_ get back to his apartment, though, it's a different story.

"How was it?" Maruki asks suddenly. "The school, I mean."

I shrug, "Didn't expect much else."

He grunts, "I feel like they were too confrontational."

"Expect them to be otherwise?"

He smiles a little sadly, "Not exactly. But it couldn't have hurt for them to address you without castigating you. They can't expect you to integrate yourself well into the student body while acting all hostile."

I deserve worse. "It's alright. I get it."

He looks a little surprised. "It's impressive how you're managing to take it all in stride."

I take off my shoes, "Do what I must."

"I see. What do you want for dinner? I'm cooking."

Great. Dunno a thing about food. "I'm up for anything."

"Are you sure? Got a lot in stock. It'd be a shame if I had the ingredients for something you liked, and you didn't get it."

"Odds are you don't."

"Try me."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Miso soup."

He smiles, "In one. Bought a few packs a week ago."

I shake my head a little. "Alright, then.

* * *

Guy looks and acts the type who'd help an old lady across the street and then get hit by a car.

But I gotta admit, his basic-ass miso soup's better than a four-star meal. Also made beef ramen on the side in case the soup didn't fill me up.

"What do you think?" he asks, slurping down on some noodles.

"Really good."

"Glad to hear it."

I raise my brow at him, "You're not what I expected."

"What _did_ you expect?"

"Someone who didn't have the time or the energy or the concern to cook delicious miso soup for a convict."

"I have a personal policy of treating everyone under my care as I'd like to be treated."

I scoff at him, "Someday that'll get you killed."

"Hopefully it won't be anytime soon. If it's of any comfort, you're not what I expected either, Hikawa-san."

"You barely even know me."

"I don't. I'll admit that. But I've dealt with a good amount of kids with similar backgrounds to yours. Considering your how you've carried yourself thus far, I'd say you'd fare better than most other kids in your situation would, and have."

"How much _do_ you know about me? Other than what's in the record."

"I know about what happened to your girlfriend and her family. Your father called me up once it happened."

Lucky me. "How do you know my Dad?"

"Believe it or not, we were acquaintances in college. I was never really a close friend of his, so I was surprised when he called me up and asked me to be your probationary officer."

I exhale, "Why'd you even take me in? The principal and my homeroom teacher looked at me like they were afraid I'd use a pipe to bash their windows in. Considering what I'm goin' through, I can't imagine what kinda reputation you'd get for housing me."

"Well, I believe that Japan treats people with criminal records all too harshly. Old or young. The Japanese mental health system isn't exactly something that people in an honor culture would be keen to give a chance. The country's got a 99% conviction rate. Prisons are filled with people who acted out of desperation, or are in dire financial straits, or suffer from deep mental issues that need to be resolved, and the country just casts them aside because of their record."

"Perhaps deservedly. I mean, I'd know. Can't do the time, don't do the crime."

"I won't deny that there are people who absolutely deserve to be stuck behind a cell for the rest of their lives. But would you say the same of someone afflicted with, for example, schizophrenia? Or dissociative identity disorder? Or any general mental disorder which inhibits them from conducting themselves properly in society? I think they need rehabilitation more than incarceration."

I raise my brow at him, "Won't really argue against that point."

"Many people are more than willing to cast aside mentally ill family members just for the sake of protecting themselves from shame," he shakes his head. "This country gets more hopped up when something or someone _looks_ bad than whether or not they actually are."

"And what do _you_ think?" I ask him. "What do you think I am? After everything I did?"

"I think...that you've been through a lot. And that if anything's going to help you re-acclimate to society, people constantly being wary of you isn't one of them."

"Would be stupid of them to give me the benefit of the doubt."

"I think they should foster an environment where you're incentivized to act civilly."

" _Be good or go to jail_ sounds like a pretty good incentive to me."

"That's a threat, not an incentive. An incentive is, _If you don't cause any trouble, maintain good grades, and foster good relationships with your peers, you'll be able to shake off the bad reputation your record gives you._ "

"I'd rather they not lie to me," I get up from the table, carrying my empty bowl to the sink. "Thanks for the food."

"I'll take care of the dishes."

"I might as well wash what I used."

He places a hand on my shoulder. "You should get some rest. You'll be heading out to school tomorrow. Big day."

I exhale. "Fine."

* * *

.

.

.

**4 / 11 / 2016**

The next day I take the train to school by myself. As usual, train's packed and there's little, if any, way to navigate through the crowd. I'm practically up against the doors when I see a bob of red pop up out the corner of my eye.

"Please, take my seat. My station's coming up."

She's a girl, younger than I. Long scarlet hair, bundled up in a ponytail. Black blazer with a Shujin logo, black skirt with red plaid lines. So she's likely my underclassman. She's speaking to an elderly lady.

"Are you sure?" Lady asks, smiling a little, "Then..."

Then some douchebag in a suit barges in and steals the seat.

"U-uh...! Sir, I, um--" Redhead stammers, "I mean, that seat was for this lady..."

Guy looks at her, but only for a second, then lulls his head and starts snoring.

"I'm, er...," she turns to the old lady. "Oh, I'm so sorry..."

Don't get involved, dumbass. " _Oi_. Old man."

What the hell are you doing.

"No, no! It's alright," she smiles, raising her hands up. "I understand his position as well. Though," she turns to the old lady, "I'm sorry I couldn't be much help..."

Old lady just smiles at her, "It's alright, dearie. Don't worry about it."

"Please allow me to carry your luggage, at least."

"Oh, ain't it heavy, though?"

A cheerful smile, "Not at all! I train plenty."

And that's where my interest in her ends. Or that's at least where it would have, otherwise. Instead, Redhead ends up following me once we both got off the train, meeting up with me partway through the station.

"P-pardon me!" By the time I hear her voice and turn, she's already run up right behind me. "My name is Kasumi Yoshizawa. I just wanted to say: thank you so much for earlier."

"For what?"

"For speaking up when I offered my seat on the train."

I shake my head, turning my back to her, "Didn't really do much. Guy stayed asleep."

Some reason she keeps following me as I walk forward. "You're a second-year at Shujin Academy, right? I'm a first year there myself. I didn't want to be rude to my senpai."

Wouldn't have really mattered if you were. "Don't wanna be late."

"Sure! Let's go together."

Goddammit. "No. Go ahead."

"Why? We can talk on the way there. I'd like to get to--"

"No, you wouldn't like to get to _anything_ involved with me."

My voice is harsh, my eyes are worse. She gets the message.

"Very well. Thanks again for earlier," she bows. "If you'll excuse me."

* * *

It's not that I don't like her. She's perfectly nice, all things considered.

But I've already got a millstone round my neck, with my record. If literally anybody catches her with me, likely she'll be the butt of all sortsa rumors that she shouldn't really have to deal with.

At this point, I'm sure I'd immediately just forget about her as soon as I'd exit the station. But then the rain starts pouring, far harsher than it has any right to be. And I've forgotten my umbrella. And the only shelter's the canopy of a nearby clothes shop.

And guess who's under the canopy.

"Senpai?"

Eh, to hell with it. I can make it to school drenched. What're they gonna do, expel me?

Wait, they actually might. Higher standards for crooks.

Damn it.

I walk up next to her. "Forgot my umbrella."

She just smiles a little, "So did I."

Luckily for her, she seems to have gotten the memo from earlier. Because afterwards, she doesn't say a word to me, doesn't even look at me. Just keeps her distance, planning to wait the rain out. The both of us just stand there and say nothing, as the rain continues to pour down, down, down _._

But before the silence can get too awkward, there's a third person who comes under the canopy. Judging by her figure, she's a woman. And when she pulls her hood down she reveals a head of platinum-blonde hair, bundled up into two massive pigtails. Her eyes are a brilliant ocean blue, which complements the blonde.

 _Pretty_ is the word that comes to mind. But I say nothing and neither does the redhead. Though she seems to want to; she's a little shy about it, though.

Cars and people pass them by along the road, and one of those cars catches our attention. The car's moving at _just_ the right pace, and when it stops it stops right in front of them all. Rolling down the window of the passenger's seat is an older man with long black hair, and a grin. He leans forward, asking Blue Eyes of all people, "Hey, you need a lift?"

Blue Eyes is wary of him. I can see it in her eyes, but nevertheless the girl remarks, "Sure. Thank you very much."

The man is smiling, though I don't sense anything other than a pervading wariness myself.

Guy then asks me and the redhead to my left, "You both need a lift?"

Yoshizawa half-smiles and shakes her hand, "I'll be alright."

I just shake my head in the negative.

He shrugs, "Alright, suit yourselves."

When the blonde girl gets in the car, I see a frustrated glint in her blue eyes, one that gets obscured by the window rolling back up.

And then the car drives away.

Don't like it. Don't like it at all.

Doesn't matter what I feel, though.

Then I hear footsteps coming from my right; someone's running, but he's not running very quickly. By the time he gets to us, he's staring at the tail end of the car that's just passed by, and he's grunting out "Dammit! Screw that pervy teacher!"

"Pervy teacher...?" I repeat.

The running boy has yellow hair and brown eyes, his eyebrows short and sharp and black. He's wearing a yellow shirt with a printed star design underneath his open Shujin blazer, and he has suspenders hanging from his hips. He shuffles himself over to me, hands in pockets and a scowl in his face.

Yoshizawa's nervous at this thuggish boy coming up close to us, so she shuffles behind me. "Uh-um--!"

Guy just grunts out, "What, you plannin' on rattin' me out to Kamoshida?"

"Who?"

The vulgar boy looks at him, half-wary, as he says, "Guy driving that car, _that_ was Kamoshida." He then smirks bitterly, rambling in something of a low voice, "You musta seen that smug look on his face..."

"I don't really have an opinion."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" he asks. "You're saying you don't know Kamoshida? You for real? You're from Shujin, right?"

"Transfer student."

Blinks. "Oh. Makes sense, then...you a second year?" I nod. "We're in the same grade."

"And that Kamoshida is...?"

Blonde guy huffs, "Shujin's PE teacher, coach of the volleyball team. He does whatever he wants...," he then folds his arms, staring ahead at the rest of the road. "You'd better be careful. Guy thinks of himself as the king of a castle, really...that sounds like an exaggeration, but you get on his bad side, you'll see it in full."  He then sees Yoshizawa, clutching her bag close to her.  "Oh. You a new student, too?"

She stammers out, "Y-yes. A first year."

Blondie looks concerned, "Huh. Well, I, er...," clears his throat. "Guy who just passed you both by is bad news. You'd best watch yourselves 'round him."

Though Yoshizawa's able to sidle out from behind me, she still looks at him warily.

Because of course she would; for as much as Blondie talks about how this _Kamoshida_ is someone to be wary over, he's not exactly doing much favors himself. Guy's got a rough accent, blonde hair, bad posture, a raging look in his eye. First impressions are _delinquent, gangster, ne'er do well_ , so it's probable this guy screwed himself over when dealing with this Kamoshida.

"A-anyway...," before stretching out his hand to the sky, "rain ain't too bad now. We'd better hurry up, or we'll be late."

I turn to Yoshizawa, "Stay far back behind me. Okay?"

She narrows her eyes and purses her lips, before nodding.

Blondie walks forward with the me and her in tow.

I don't hear the next few sounds blare out in my phone.

** Palace Location and Distortion Confirmed **

Then we three keel over a little in our steps, the world trembling in our brains. 

The blonde man grunts as he clutches at his head, "Oh, man..."

I ask, "You okay?"

"It's nothin'," he says. "Just feeling a little light-headed, is all...," he then mutters out a curse as he whines, "I wanna go home already..."

Three of us stay silent as Blondie walks us through a dank and damp alleyway. Apparently it's a shortcut, but if it isn't we're screwed.

There is a castle in front of the three of us now. A gaudy, extremely large castle that glows and glitters like gold, looking like something that's come straight from some stupid storybook. It is tall enough to host three entire schools, and looking at it straight down the middle makes it completely fill up my point of view.

This is all wrong.

"We didn't...," Blondie begins, looking behind him as he continues, "come the wrong way, though. The sign _was_ for the school...wasn't it?"

"Yes...it was...," Yoshizawa says. Taken aback by the sight of this castle as well. "This should be right..."

There's something hitting me, throbbing at my chest, stabbing my brains. Soon enough I'm struggling to breathe, like I can't move, like I'm a prisoner in my own body, and then I suddenly blurt out in a whisper, "We need to get out of here and never come back."

But before I know it the blonde-haired man is walking into the castle grounds himself, past both me and the girl and he doesn't even know what the hell he's doing--

But once he enters red and black circles bloom outward, right in front of us, signifying his transition into a whole 'nother world.

"No! Come back, _wait_!"

And I don't hear Yoshizawa calling out to the both of us, I don't hear her saying, " _H-hold on_!" as she follows us right into the castle's halls.

* * *

I hear faint words from _somewhere_ , someone calling me. When I muster the strength to open my eyes, I find Blondie hovering over me, asking me, "Glasses, you okay...?"

I nod a little, my head blistering with pain. I try to recount what's happened to me, and though my skull throbs she can see images fading in and out. I'm grabbing his arm. Something lumbering, large, silver; it clinks and clanks and when it reaches the me and him things turn dark again.

Instead of being out of the castle, we're now inside a dingy cell. My hand's touching something wet and I doesn't really want to know what it is; though I'm sure I'll get an infection. Room is dark and damp and musty, but she sees bars leading to the outside. I sit myself up and mutter, "We've gotta get outta here..."

"Been searching this place for the last few minutes," says Blondie. "Can't find anything that I think'd help us escape..."

"Where's...the...," I grunt, "the other one, the person who was with...us..."

"I-I'm here!" Yoshizawa calls out, walking over to me. "Thank goodness you're okay."

"Dammit, where are we...!?" Blondie cries out, before running to the bars and shouting more. "Hey! Let us outta here! I know there's someone out there!"

It is damp. And it is dark. And it is like a nightmare.

I've been laid out on gravel, and I'm staring at the ceiling. Water is dripping from the cracks and the grooves of the brick, dripping onto my face and _I'm here to suffer, aren't I_. I'm here to keep on suffering because I deserve it for what I did to Kana. I deserve to burn in Hell for all of eternity, but I'm not in Hell, I'm in a _Palace_ , which is pretty much kind of the same thing.

I know I'm in a Palace because even though it _looks_ different it has that same feeling, it gnaws at the back of my head all the same. My heart pounds and my eyes burn and something's aching and clawing at my spine from the inside out; I have to get out of here. Get out of here and beg my father to send me to another school because Shujin's got someone _screwed up enough to have a Palace_ —

All the while, he's banging on the steel and I'm agitated because I've got a massive headache she knows won't leave any time soon.

But then he stops. Then I tear my head up. Yoshizawa runs to him, she clutches the bars along with him as his jaw begins to quiver. We all hear them, hear the screams that'll never end, screams that sound so young and alive. They are screams of children; perhaps their age, perhaps younger. They sound like hot oil's being cast all over their bodies, like their backs are getting flayed and their legs are getting crushed by morning stars.

I tap away at my phone immediately upon hearing those screams.

But instead all I get is an **Access Denied. Access Denied** , **Access** **Denied** , _ **Access Denied**_!?

"You've got to be kidding me."

**"What are you going to do now?"**

And I recognize that voice. And I grit my teeth and I scowl.

Get away from me.

**"You know there's only one thing you can do."**

Shut up.

I march over to Blondie and Yoshizawa, grabbing at the lock in front of the cell. Rusty and mottled, but I can still—

**"You can get out of here, right now, if you'd like. I don't want to see you trapped like this."**

"I said, be quiet." I'm trying to be calm I'm trying to be sane I'm trying to not _listen to the monsters inside my brain_ but it's not working and I wanna kill _everything_ now just to make the voices go away and be stuck back again in the calm of _somewhere else_ —

**"I won't hate you if you use—"**

"I said _shut up_ —"

When I turn I see her.

She has her green eyes again. She is wearing a red scarf around her neck. She is wearing a Kishibaru uniform and she is standing there, calmly facing me with her hands at her sides and her shoulders deflated. She is the most beautiful girl in all the world and she's here with me, again. Except it's not her, it can't be her, because I saw her writhe, I've seen her lay lifelessly in a hospital bed from a madness I bestowed upon her—

Stop looking like her.

It doesn't say anything back. So I turn back to the bars and I try fiddling with the lock. The other two sound worried, concerned, they're trying to get me to calm down but how the _hell_ am I supposed to do that? I don't have anything small on me, so I can't really unlock it. Is there anything else I can do, to get out of here? I turn to the hinges of my cell door, see that they're not rusty but I decide it's worth it to at least try and kick 'em till they _break—_

Then it speaks again, **"Kazuya, I never hated you."**

My cellmates are crying out at me now, "Glasses, wait _—!"_ and "Senpai, you need to slow down _—!"_

"Shut up," I tell both them and the voice in my head, raising up my leg and letting my foot _kick_ the hinge and it hurts and it hurts so much but I have to do it _again_ do anything to get me out of this cell—

Blondie cries out, "God, wait just _stop_ for a sec, would ya _—!?"_

**"You can do it, I won't hold it against you."**

I said shut up, _will you listen to me for once—_ I grip the bars and I'm breathing heavily now.

**"I never held it against you at all. You were only trying to help me.** **I meant what I said, that last night we were together.** **I mean it still."**

I hear my cellmates crying out for me, Blondie's now holding me up by the arms and I'm seething, shuddering, sweating like a pig and wanting to die and burn in Hell forever and how could you not _hate me_? I killed Masako, I killed your mom, I killed _you_ and you can't just—

**"Its me, Kazuya. Please look at me, I don't want to see you like this!"**

"Stop talking stop talking stop _talking_ —!" then I slump to the floor, still clutching the bars. I'm shuddering with every breath as I'm trying to compose myself, trying to keep myself calm. Trying to just regain my senses. "Just...please stop talking..."

And she stops talking. She's behind us. I can feel her. It's real. I don't know how it's real but it's real. That sensation I get in my chest when she's there, that aura she'd give, that feeling she gave me, the feeling of wanting to do good and be good and not be what I used to be, not be some selfish rich kid who only cared about _breathing_ and not _living_.

I could have run, that day.

Could have run, taken you by the arm and left Shido there. He was drunk, so he'd have probably forgotten our faces by morning. But I didn't. I nearly killed him. I wanted to, I think. I wanted to because I hated him for what he was trying to do to you. But what am I thinking...?

You probably would've gone mad all the same.

Blondie lets me go, muttering something under his breath about how _this can't be happening_ , his hands are shaking at the bars and Yoshizawa's breathing faster, heavier.

Then we hear lumbering steel again. She sees large masses marching towards her, their bodies making their metallic noises as their armor sets clatter against themselves. When they come across the cell door, we see clearly that they are knights. But we've never seen knights twice our size, I don't recall ever seeing blades as sharp as the ones they have so _close_ , I don't know how they can breathe through their face masks.

Shadows. Or Manikins.

** "No one's allowed to do as they please, not in _my_ castle..." **

We see someone walking in from behind all the knights, and the moment this person comes in the knights make way for him. He is wearing a red king's cape with cartoonish pink hearts sewn all over it, and he has virtually nothing underneath, the only thing covering his nether regions is his _bush_. He's barefoot and he's got a simple golden crown perched atop his head.

He is a tall man, he is a familiar man, he is the man who had picked up the blue-eyed girl earlier in his car. The only difference I can spot in terms of facial features is the fact that his normally-black eyes have now turned a fiery topaz.

"Kamoshida...?" Blondie mutters, unable to believe the sight himself.

And Kamoshida keeps talking, **"I thought it was some petty thief, but to think it'd be _you_ , Sakamoto...are you trying to disobey me again? Looks like you haven't learned your lesson at all."**

Guy named Sakamoto's hands tighten 'round the bars as his teeth clench—

**"And you brought friends, this time. Still can't do anything for yourself, huh?"** he chuckles, before turning to us. I know the look he has in his eyes when his pupils meet the Redhead's and I know from the look in hers she's _revolted_ , but she courageously glares him down all the same.

She grits her teeth and she _knows_ there's nothing she can say, lest he have the both of them beheaded on the spot. But Sakamoto doesn't seem to care much, considering that he then yells, "This ain't funny, you sick bastard!"

**"Is that how you speak to a king!?"** Kamoshida roars, not even giving Sakamoto a _chance_ to talk, **"You don't understand the position you're in at all...not only did you sneak into my castle, you committed the crime of insulting me—the king!"** And then he smiles, he smiles a wide smile that's too wide for a human's face to make, **"The punishment for that...is death."** Then he addresses the guards and tells them, _"_ **Have him executed at once!"**

And once the knights encroach upon the cage, Sakamoto shirks back and can only plead, "S-stop it...!"

Before we know it, the knights are in the cage with me and Yoshizawa and Sakamoto but they're all facing the latter. Their blades have been brandished and they're looming over him and they're gonna do all sorts of things to him with the swords they've got in their football-sized hands.

Sakamoto's up against the wall now and Yoshizawa cries out, "Stop it!"

But she can't do such a thing, because before she attempts to make her dash, Sakamoto's already _rammed_ himself into one of the guards. Sending a knight fully-clad in _steel armor_ to the ground. "I ain't down for this!" he exclaims, rubbing at his now-aching shoulder and head as he tells her, "Come on! We're bustin outta—!"

But then there's another two guards.

One of the knights has hit Sakamoto's guts with the hilt of its blade, causing him to immediately keel over in his pain. Sakamoto tries to stand then, but all he can do is puke out some spit while he clutches his stomach and kneels. It's at this point Yoshizawa tries to run to him and get him out of dodge before they stab him or perforate him or quarter him or do whatever they're gonna do with their swords, but the knights' large bodies block her path and she can't just _push_ them aside—

"Just _run_!" Sakamoto cries out in desperation. "Get outta here...! These guys're serious!"

It's at this point Kamoshida looks at us and he laughs, **"This'll be rich. What heartless friends you are..."**

"Th-they ain't friends...!" cries out Sakamoto. But then he says immediately after, "Come _on_! Hurry up and _go...!_ "

But I can't move and she can't move, she's trying to move but she can't because he'll die the moment she leaves this cage, we'll have his blood on her hands, and how can we let the guy who tried to save us get mutilated? But of course Kamoshida has to _keep talking._

**"What? Too scared to run away?"** He leers at us, leers at _me_ , almost looking a tad _disappointed_. **"You're not even worth killing, not really."**

But then the knights grab Sakamoto by both of his arms and hoist him up and all we can do is watch _all we can do is watch_ —Kamoshida smacks him once across the face, twice now across the face, a third time. Punches him so hard one of his eyes turns black, knees his gut and I can swear she sees a little red fly out Sakamoto's mouth. A sword is held up to our necks, we can't move, we can't fight, we can't even turn away.

But I can.

I can summon a six-winged admiral dressed in black, and I can blow up this whole goddamn place until it's nothing left but smithereens.

But I haven't summoned him in three months.

I can't _feel_ him in my head anymore.

Sakamoto's a mess on the floor by the end of the beatdown and Kamoshida _spits_ on him, right in his face. **"Where'd your energy from earlier go?"** Sakamoto's then picked up from off the ground and tossed over to the cell wall. When he falls back to the ground, he doesn't even move. I don't even see him _breathe_. **"I've wasted enough time beating you down. I'll have you killed...right now."**

"Wh-what —!?"

Guards grab us by the arms and push us into the wall the moment Yoshizawa rushes forward. "S- _Sakamoto_! Let us go!" The man turns to her and he grins as she cries out, "Have you lost your mind!?"

Then his grin turns into a scowl as he draws closer, closer, _too close_ , **"What's with that look in your eyes...?"** he chuckles before scowling again. **"Anyone ever tell you—"** then he _kicks her in her stomach_ , guards grabbing her arms then to keep her from moving as she coughs and growls and snarls in pain and anger and _hate hate hate_ **"—it ain't very womanly** **to glare?"**

Yoshizawa tries pushing herself free of the knights' grip on her shoulders as she bares her teeth and flares her nostrils and growls and stamps and screams like an animal, " _Kamoshida_!"

**"Hold her there...,"** he grins, turning back to Sakamoto. _"_ **I'll have some fun with her, after we take care of Sakamoto."**

Knight's blade draws closer to the scruff of our necks and it'll rip through us if we're not careful. Sakamoto's looking up at the third knight in the room, and all he can do is plead, "No, no no no I don't wanna die, no no _no no please_ —" as Kamoshida laughs and laughs and laughs and _won't ever stop laughing._

And I think, I seethe, I rage and I shout, I remember everything that had happened in that nuclear wasteland—

I remember returning to the real world after destroying her Shadow. I remember returning to my room. With her, in my bed. I remember wearing my regular clothes, all the wounds I had endured back when facing her Palace gone. And I was scared to wake her. I remembered being so frightened, remembered being scared that if I were to break her out of her sleep now I'd end up doing something wrong, end up breaking her like I ended up doing anyway in the end.

I remember seeing her eventually waking up and turning to me oh-so slowly. In the dead of night she turned to me and my eyes had already adjusted and I saw her and she was beautiful. So beautiful. She was staring at me, while I was right next to her. Wondering what she was thinking. She smiled at me and spoke to me and she was happy she seemed so happy, happier than she'd ever been and—

_I was holding her I was holding her_ I didn't want this to happen I called out her name and I begged her _begged her_ Kana, Kana please "Kana please stop Kana! Kana—Kana, I— _KANA_ —!" all I did was just call out her name and hold her I didn't know what was happening I didn't know what I did wrong I didn't know I wanted to know I _wanted to know what I did wrong God what did I do_!?

And I growl again, I _hate_ again, I feel the worst I've ever felt and I wanna to break the whole planet in two because it's just _full_ of people like Kamoshida, people who're willing to hurt and kill and torture others for their own pleasure all because they're the king of some castle nobody even knows about.

Sakamoto's held up against the wall the sword's being raised he'll bleed and die and be cut up into a million pieces if I _keep on doing nothing **—**_ **w** hat can I do? What the hell can I do _now!?_

I can feel him, at the edges of my mind, crawling in my brain, but he's not coming, he's not barreling through and _WHY THE HELL NOT!?_ _WHY DON'T YOU RIP AND RAPE AND PILLAGE YOUR WAY THROUGH_ ** _THE WORLD LIKE YOU DID LAST TIME YOU USELESS —_**

" _Stop it_."

And we all of us turn.

We turn to a redheaded girl, glaring in ways I could never imagine she would.

Yoshizawa feels something blast in her lungs, travelling up to her brain and then transitioning to her eyesockets _and it burns it burns it burns she wants it to stop_ —

** "So adamant." **

And through the pain and the agony and though her eyes are burning like they've been set aflame, Yoshizawa finds herself wanting more and more and _more of it—_!

** "Rather than accept a life in cinders,  
You'd strive toward splendor." **

And Yoshizawa screams a terrible scream, one that can be heard all throughout the castle. Kamoshida and the guards turn to her and see her screaming and writhing in her bindings,  Kamoshida then orders the knights holding her to the wall, **"Execute her!** but Yoshizawa doesn't listen because her brain's splitting in two _—_

One of the guards bashes his shield into her face and Yoshizawa's sent tumbling to the ground, but all she can hear is a beautiful voice, a lovely voice, one of authority and power; one that sounds utterly divine.

**"You know the risk... but if those really are the shoes you've chosen,**   
**Then dance to the end."**

And she faces Kamoshida. She feels something cold along the upper part of her face. Something heavy, rough, made of iron. She should be concussed. The hit from the shield should have knocked her out. But she's more alive than ever before.

When she tears off the mask she cries out a scream that ought to be heard on the other side of the planet, and the fire wraps around her and she's engulfed in a bright blue that she'll never ever get tired of seeing. She wants it bathing her, every single inch of her, and she never wants it to stop. The fire changes everything she has and everything she is and it does this simply by unleashing that which she kept inside for so very long.

And as Kamoshida shirks back in fear and terror and horror and as the guards just helplessly watch as Yoshizawa obtains a power that can't ever be surpassed by anything they've got in store, she glares at Kamoshida and she _smiles._ Her clothes have transformed as well, giving her a black bolero jacket with white, ruffled sleeves and three floor-length coattails. A thigh-length hose and stiletto-heels, with golden gloves.

** "Thou art I, and I am thou.  
** ** From the sea of thy soul, I cometh." **

She moves her wrist once and her Persona twirls up in the air. Dressed in a dancer's singlet made of blue diamonds, she bears golden hair and a blue ribbon. Her skin is black as soot, blue flames scattered about her arms. A white capelet flourishes from her back as her blue eyes flare, and she too lets out a smile.

** "I am Cendrillon, the Ash Maiden." **

Sakamoto's slack-jawed, staring at a beast dressed in a girl's skin.

And I've assured myself a place in Hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERE'S WHERE EVERYTHING BEGINS BOIIIIIISS  
> Super happy if you stuck 'round for the first 11 chapters, because from here on out I'mma adapt the hell out of Royal.  
> Also no i didn't take the description of Kasumi's clothes straight from the wiki because I'm bad at fashion why do you ask


	13. The Laughter and the Tears and the Blood

**4** **/ 11 / 2016**

Yoshizawa's eyes burn brightly, pure and violent and strong. Her gaze is piercing beyond all measure and Kamoshida scampers off from the sight, behind his guards.

**"G-get her! _Get her, damn you_! Cut her into a thousand pieces!"**

The four knights that entered this place with him have a seizure for all of two seconds before they each erupt in a mass of black, their armor falling off like shells from their bodies.

Two of the four transform into disembodied pumpkin heads, each wearing a wizard's pointed hat and a cloak. Their sole remaining body part is one hand, wrapped in a white glove, carrying a lantern. The other two transform into emaciated, purple-skinned hairless men with bulbous heads and massive eyes; flying on leathery wings, they keep a wide grin and laugh as they spread their legs wide to reveal four-foot long barbed penises—

"Wh-what the hell!?"

They let out their little laughs and their eyes leer at her, they long to grab ahold of her and do as they please, pierce through and into her in every single orifice she has and perhaps make a few of their own, and I hear a voice hiss in my head _Jack-o-Lantern_ , _Incubus_ , _Jack-o-Lantern_ , _Incubus —_

**"Doesn't matter what you do to her, just get her outta my sight —"**

" _Cendrillon_!"

The Ash Maiden twirls in the air and lets out a little laugh and suddenly a blinding white light pierces through the world and flashes outwards. Its rays become spears and as they charge the pumpkins are shattered to pieces and the demons are disintegrated. Kamoshida's left shuddering, having raised his cape upward to shield his eyes from the light, and as he cowers Sakamoto takes this chance to charge forward while screaming _HYAAAA —_

A single dash into him sends Kamoshida off his feet and flat on his ass.

"How's it feel to be lookin' up at _me_ for once, huh!?"

In the corner of my eye I see something silver after hearing a _jingling_ noise, and I see a set of keys that one of the guards must have dropped in all the confusion.

So I grab it and yell "C'mon!"

Yoshizawa and Sakamoto follow me out the open cell door and I slam it shut. It's only by sheer good fortune that the first key I fit in the lock is the key we need.

"You guys okay?" I turn to the others.

"Holy shit holy shit holy _shit_ I can't believe we're still alive."

Yoshizawa exhales, half-laughing, "M-my legs won't stop shaking...!"

"Dude, that was _awesome_! How the hell did you even...!? A-and your _clothes_!"

"I-I don't know, I...," Yoshizawa puts a hand to her head as her breathing grows labored. In seconds blue fire covers her and undoes her extravagant costume, and she's falling in Sakamoto's arms dressed in the uniform she'd been wearing earlier. "Oh my..."

"H-hey! You alright!?" Sakamoto cries out.

"I'm fine, I'm just—I'm very...tired..."

After I summoned Satanael the first time, I felt like I could sleep till I was sixty. Must be a thing with Personas. But can't talk about that right now.

 **"Damn you...!"** Kamoshida rises from the dirt and grabs at the bars, practically frothing at the mouth, **"Do you realize what you've just done!?"**

I throw the keys in my bag. "Let's go."

"S-sure!"

I turn to Yoshizawa, "Can you walk?"

**"How _dare_ you ignore me, you little—"**

"I-I'll be fine. I can't really run, but...I'll be fine."

We'll have to stealth our way through here, then. "Okay. Both of you keep close behind me. Sakamoto, you've got to guard her."

"Got it," he says.

**"Hey! Don't you leave me here!"**

But we do exactly that, and hearing his deranged cries as we flee the scene makes the world a beautiful place for just this once.

* * *

"What...was that just now...?" Sakamoto asks me.

The three of us are still in the dungeons of this miserable castle, but we're at least somewhere _far_ away from Kamoshida and the rest of his knights. We're at the very end of a walkway with empty cells along the walls. Said _walkway_ is really just a long path of earthen rock. No guardrails, no floor tiles. Just soil and mud and grass. Across from it is another walkway and another set of cells. Thankfully, said cells are empty. Between the two walkways is an unrelenting stream of water, flowing underneath the soil endlessly.

There seems to be a way to get over to the other side; a drawbridge of sorts, next to one of the cells, that at the moment is raised up. There's a statue of Kamoshida next to said drawbridge, a statue that's likely got something to do with lowering the bridge, but right now we hear the clattering of steel leggings and they're far too loud for me to be anything other than cautious.

And we all hear the screams, the screams of other innocent people trapped here, most likely being tortured and maimed or worse. There are multiple cages hanging from the ceiling, rusty cages that each contain a single person wearing a Shujin uniform. They're screaming things that don't make sense and muttering words that don't exist, and they're clawing and writhing in their prisons like madmen, trapped in this miserable place. Clamped over their faces are iron cylinders with three or four holes punched through, and their cries for help reverberate through the metal.

"S-senpai...," says Yoshizawa then. "What do we do now?"

"We'll have to stay quiet, for now. Keep your head down and your voice low. We can't risk running, might alert some nearby guards we're unaware of. If we're gonna have a chance at getting outta here, we need to keep ourselves quiet."

"Y-you serious?" Sakamoto asks. "We're not gonna...?"

"We don't know how large this castle is. We don't even know how many guards there are. If we release these people, we'll most likely just get caught. And we'll have made no progress at all."

And besides, these people are likely Manikins.  One problem at a time.

"Running is all we can do...?" Yoshizawa grunts, breathing heavily.

"We can't risk drawing attention to ourselves, not when there's only three of us. We get these people down from their cages we risk giving away our position. You're exhausted as it is."

"This is...!" Sakamoto grits his teeth again in his rage, "We can't do anything but sneak around like _rats_!"

"Look, I don't like it, either. But do you wanna die here? 'Cause if we stay, then we all will."

"I'll come back here," Yoshizawa declares. "I don't know how or when, but I'll come back here. I'll help put a stop to all of this."

" _We'll_ do it," Sakamoto suddenly cuts in. "I may not be able to summon a fancy monster lady outta nowhere, but...," then he shakes his head. "Can't let Kamoshida ruin more people's lives...," then he scratches the back of his head roughly, "this is all like some crazy dream...!"

And then we hear a voice, a small nasal voice, calling out to us.

"Kazuya...?"

The creature is small, up to their knees in height. Its round head is twice as big as the rest of its body and it's got the pointy ears, the paws, the tail; but it also has blue eyes as large as saucers, a utility belt with yellow buckles, and a yellow handkerchief wrapped around its neck like a collar.

"What is this thing!?" Sakamoto exclaims.

And all I can muster is a cold, " _You_."

"What...?" asks Yoshizawa.

I walk past the cage, "Let's go."

Yoshizawa mutters, "Let's _go_?"

"Leave it."

"W-wait, Kazuya! H-hold on! At least get me out of here! L-look, the key's right there...!"

"Do you...know him, senpai?"

"We have to go, _now_."

"H-hold on!" cries Sakamoto, turning to the cat. "What's in it for us if we let you out, cat?"

Suddenly its expression sharpens and it snarls, and it says, "I am _not_ a cat! Say that again and I'll make you regret it!"

"Yelling at us. That'll definitely get us to help you," I glare at it. 

"S-sorry," it mutters, but then it shakes its head and it cries out, "Look, you wanna know where the exit is? I can take you there! You don't wanna get caught and executed, right!?"

"What I _want_ is to boil you alive—"

"Can you really help us?" Yoshizawa asks.

Confidently, the creature declares, "I never go back on my word!"

But Sakamoto shakes his head, "This thing sounds like it's all talk..."

"If you guys think you can get out on your own, then be my guest!" it replies.

Then we hear noises, steel clanking against steel. We turn to our side and we see lumbering shapes again, they're charging at us, marching, and they're much _larger_ than before, we see one of them with _gold-plated armor_ and I turn to Sakamoto and he sees them too and he doesn't know what to do anymore either so we're all left with the _cat_ because they're just that desperate.

Sakamoto growls, "You seriously not messin' with us!?"

"They'll catch you if you do nothing!" Then the cat turns to me and says, "You may have a Persona, but you still _need_ me to get outta here!"

I've been screaming at him, calling out and crying his name endlessly in my head.

But he's not coming.

So there's no time to be picky about what helps out and what doesn't.

I grab a set of keys lying on the ground as Sakamoto hisses in his fear and anger and guards Yoshizawa's body with his own, I fumble with the keys as the cat cries out, _"Hurry up hurry up hurry up!"_

And then the knights are close so very close, they're running now in their armor and they're running fast, running quickly too quickly the armor should be impeding their movement but they're fine just fine nothing's stopping them _at all—_

So when the locked gate opens and the cat comes out of the cage it runs out and swerves, swerves to the knights running at the three of them and it leaps into the air, shouting a triumphant, " _Mercurius_!" as he dives down and spins and somehow brandishes a _cutlass_ from out of nowhere—

"What the...!?" cries out Sakamoto.

One of the lesser knights is stabbed in its mask, black spurting out from the wound as something large and grand and _magnificent_ barrels out of the cat's head.

A skinny figure, tall and lanky, with an inhumanly narrow waist. Dressed in black leather from head to toe, a hood draped over his head, he bears golden gauntlets and boots, and said boots sprout seven-foot long wings from their heels. With blazing yellow eyes and a golden staff in its hand, Mercurius rises upward and raises his staff once—

A forceful gust of wind sends the knightin gold-plated armor as far back as it'd come, the cat leaping off of the knight it had stabbed just a few moments ago.

As it collapses I see the third knight charging for the rest of us, ready to run its sword through all three of us but judging from the look in her eyes Yoshizawa won't even give it that _chance—_

"Cendrillon!"

In a flash her Persona's hovering above her head and the world's a blur and she's screaming _madly_ as she rushes forward, and Cendrillon lets light flare outwards from the palms of her black hands.

The flash of light obscures my vision, but from what I'm able to see, the knight's armor is ripped apart by the lights _—but once the light fades_ , all I see galloping towards us is a white horse, with blood-red eyes, and a horn atop its head.

"Wh-what!?"

And Mercurius brings one of its long and lanky legs down on the _Unicorn_ 's spine, snapping it in twain. It neighs and it whinnies as Mercurius grabs it by the mane with his left arm and by its tail with his right, and Yoshizawa's shuddering from just all the shock.

Cat smiles widely. "Resists light. You should use physical attacks."

Mercurius pulls the horse apart in two as blood rains down from its body, and the Unicorn cries and screams and bellows its last, as its corporeal form liquefies into gore. We're lucky the most it gets on us is our shoes, though Sakamoto and Yoshizawa are far too dumbstruck at the sight to really care about their shoes.

"Anyway," cat says, turning to me, "you really gonna let a _girl_ fight your battles for you?"

I narrow my eyes at it before kicking it in one of its own. It just pops out and dangles there, just like it did all those months ago.

Sakamoto cries " _Whaa_ _—!?"_ as Yoshizawa faints right then and there, her clothes reverting back to normal. "Oh no, hey _—come on!"_

"You're lucky—" pops the eye back into place, " _—_ I don't feel pain when it's my eyes."

"I'll have to see how deep-frying the rest of you goes, then."

"You'll have to get outta here first! Only way you'll find a stove!"

I march on over to the statue and pull at the jaw. The drawbridge drops then, and I turn to the rest. "Sakamoto. Can you carry Yoshizawa?"

"I-I can't."

"What?"

"I have a bad leg," he tells me. "I put pressure on my knee and it'll blow out. Sorry."

"Alright then," I walk over to her and clap her lightly on the cheek. "Yoshizawa."

A few more claps and she awakens with a _Hhhurgh_ noise, "What the--how, are we even--what--!?"

"It's okay. We're okay."

"Th-thank goodness," she exhales. "I--I was worried that--oh my, is anybody, nobody's _hurt_ , right?"

"No. Luckily enough."

Cat suddenly interrupts, "There's a window I used to sneak in, I think you all can fit through to make your escape. But we _can't rush things_. We've made enough noise already—Palace's guards are most likely on our tails. Attacking 'em's no longer our priority. We need to sneak our way outta here."

* * *

"Quick!" exclaims the cat, still draping itself on the girl's neck. "We run up here, we get to the front hall of the castle!"

Wordlessly, I and Sakamoto and Yoshizawa run up the stairs as we hope with everything we have the knights won't catch up to us. When we reach the top of the stairs I kick the door down and we find ourselves in a large, open hall. Large red carpet stretching out and covering every inch of floor. Chandeliers and potted plants hanging from the ceiling. Ionic pillars holding the upper floors. Fabric drapes hanging from inner balconies and platforms.

No guards at all.

When we turn to our left we see a large set of doors, the doors I remember entering through to try and get Sakamoto out. When we turn to our right, we see a staircase leading to a platform, leading to a large painting hanging from a wall.

The frame is five meters wide and ten meters tall. The painting itself is of a muscular man without a shirt, a large red cape flowing from over his shoulders. The man's arms are folded and he's laughing madly, hungrily, pridefully. Bright roses surround the corners of the painting as Sakamoto grits his teeth.

The cat's trying to grab his attention, "Come _on_ , we can't afford to just stand around!" but he's too angry to care, too infuriated to move.

So I tell him, "You can find him in the real world and take care of him there."

This gets his attention, but before he can even say anything something _whizzes_ by our heads.

"Wh-what the—!?" the delinquent falls flat on his back because the steel just brushed against the bridge of his nose and it's now bleeding.

We turn. Crossbow bolt stuck in one of the pillars. We're too late.

Guards filling up the door we'd just come from, all raring for a chance to run their blades through our bodies. Another door, one in the main hall, floods open as well and even more knights come busting through. They lift their blades and hold them to our necks before we can even properly react, so we humans are forced to huddle together and stand our ground. Sakamoto grunts in both rage and fear, the cat turns its head as though surveying the situation, and though Yoshizawa's hands are shaking she's keeping it together as best as she can.

Sakamoto uses the last of his strength to look at the painting. Glaring at it like it's the Devil himself.

I soon realize it's not the painting he's looking at. It's the man standing at the bottom of the frame. The man whom the painting was made for, the ruler of this castle.

** "Look what we've got here. Honestly didn't think you'd've made it this far." **

"Kamoshida..." Sakamoto's fingers sink into his palms and he lowers his head, his glare fiercer and more animal.

I hear a voice in my head calling me, ripping away at my brain. It hammers nails into my skull and it screams, raging and raring to rise up and fight. Wanting to burn the whole world down to its cinders and I realize.

I realize that Satanael could have come out this whole time.

And that the only reason he hasn't... was that I don't want him to.

**"Sakamoto...it really is a pity to see you cowering the way you are,"** the Shadow laughs as he draws closer to the delinquent, the latter glaring at him as well. **"How far the star runner of the track team has fallen."**

"That has _nothing_ to do with this," delinquent grunts.

**"Doesn't it?"** he laughs. **"You betrayed your teammates, crushed their hopes and dreams under your boot, and you still carry on as carefree as ever. Now thanks to you, you've gotten yourself and two others executed."**

The delinquent wants to kill him, make him bleed, I can see it in his eyes. But he doesn't know what that means, what he'll end up doing to the Palace owner in the real world, none of them know what they'll end up doing to him in the real world, _I have to stop them before they do what I did to Kana_ —

I hear a swarming noise and I feel insect legs tickling the inner walls of my skull. I remember entering a city ruined by hellfire. I remember killing the creatures within that city and destroying the life of the greatest person in all the world by doing so. I remember the tender taste of human flesh, I remember gleaming silver sinking into the meat of his leg, and I remember seeing a living cancer get his brains spread out onto concrete.

It's all coming back and it won't ever stop coming back and because it won't stop coming back I'm not letting myself summon my Persona _goddamn it all—_

The caped man then turns to me, looking right into my eyes, **"And you; ah, you're the new transfer student. Sorry you have to die here, really. It's kinda unfortunate; you barely dodge juvie only to wind up here. Rules are rules, though; prisoners can't escape their dungeons 'til I tell 'em to. You'll have to face the punishment for breaking the law. You can't defy the king, after all."**

And as I look at him a plan forms in my head. I remember the silver in my bag. All at once the air is clear, and I am somewhere else watching it happen.

The man's eyes scrunch up before widening, and he smirks, **"You think you can look at me like that?"**

Before he knows it I lunge at Kamoshida and have an arm round his neck and a knife to his eyeball and I'm staring at all the knights and I'm darting my head every which way. Knights can do nothing, delinquent and girl and cat all stand there stunned and the King is squirming in my grasp and crying out and screaming, **"What do you think you're doing—!?"**

"Back off, _back off_ ," I scream at the knights, pushing myself past them with an arm wrapped around the King's neck. I shouldn't be this strong, my eyes shouldn't be burning the way they're burning, I shouldn't even be using the knife _why did I even have it in my bag at all_ but then I keep talking. "Let us go or I cut his goddamn eyes out."

** "You can't do this to a King—!" **

_"Cendrillon!"_

She saw the chance and she took it. Once I startled the guards, all she needed to do was summon her Persona and get everyone outta dodge. She didn't _kill_ any of the guards, but knocked them down, got them out of the way, left open a wide enough gap for the door.

"Mercurius!" The cat's Persona then barrels into the world and fashions itself into an _en garde_ pose, brandishing its rapier and letting the wind fly all over the world, sending the knights even further away from us. "Okay, guys! Let's move—!"

Then something sparks and splutters and flies through the air and hits Mercurius square in his chest and the explosion is as loud as a thousand grenades going off simultaneously.

The cat can't even scream as it falls from the ground like a rock.

Girl exclaims, "What!?" as the delinquent backs himself into a wall.

Another blast of fire comes forward and hits Cendrillon hits it makes it go up in flames in a bright flash of light—the girl screams in agony and crumples down, clutching at her chest.

_"NO!!"_ Sakamoto runs to her but for all his trouble gets knocked unconscious when another knight bashes his shield into his face, and I turn to where the fires came from—

And then we see a golden knight at the top of the stairs, standing right at the base of the picture frame. The knight is pointing its blade forward and the tip of said blade is smoking. Once it lowers its weapon to its side, we see it writhe for a mere fraction of a second and then we see it for what it really is.

It has red wings. It is thirty-three feet tall and its armor has changed from gold to silver. It is brandishing a fiery blade as its red eyes glare upon us madly and there's a bright red light emanating from its form, as it hovers and looms over us like an angel passing judgment over our very souls.

There's a voice in my head and it's telling me to reach up and grab it and tear off its wings. Another voice still is telling me to get myself and everyone out of here. Push the King to the ground and grab the cat and the delinquent, get on the bike and drive out. But there's a third voice in my head, telling me something I absolutely cannot do under any circumstances.

My knife is right at the King's eye. Once the King's throat bleeds out I can grab every single one of us and get us out of here. What choice do I have?

I don't want to do it. I can't do it. Not again. But I'm not here. I'm not holding a knife to the eye of a Shadow. It's not me, doing any of this.

The knife is shaking. My hand is trembling. My eyes are wide and there's something hot running through my veins. I want to reach out and grab myself and tell myself I have to stop before I do anything drastic, before I destroy the mind of another man. But I also want it all to end right this minute. Fire's in my arm and my teeth are chattering and I'm remembering the alley, I think of that man whose head I burst open and I remember the girl I drove to suicide and I want to stop I need to stop I can't do this I can't do it I'm not supposed to _I'm supposed to live—_

And he knows this.

He smiles as he grabs me by my hair and before I know it I'm on the ground, the knife skittering out of my hands. I try to get up because I have to get up but before I know it he's stepping on my head and my mouth eats red carpet.

He's kicking me like a dog on the street, calling me names like _Gutter Trash_ and other exorbitant insults as he watches spit and drool and blood cough up from my mouth. Each kick is harder than the last and I feel the next time I head to the bathroom I'll be pissing red, I'm twitching by the thirtieth time a kick lands and I won't be able to breathe properly or eat well for the next few days.

I want to end him, I want to get up and say its name and rip him apart and tear him to shreds and do to him what I did to Shido and not regret it a single bit. Somehow, someway, I will rise up from the floor and destroy him and this Palace and everything it is and ever will be.

Before he kills us, I must kill him. I must rob him of what makes him himself. I will destroy him and make sure he never comes back in any capacity, forget the consequences.

Or maybe I won't.

There's one last voice in my head, another voice that sprouted the moment I saw Kana in my bathtub, with open wrists and vacant eyes. The voice was quiet then but it's loud and clear now. It's telling me to stay down.  Stay down and lie here. Just lie here and die.

It's only what you deserve.

"Stop it...!" cries out the girl. Covered in burns and ash, she's pushing herself up off the ground. "L-let him go...!"

** "Why should I? The King's orders are absolute. Kid tried to cut my throat and you were willing to let that happen." **

Yoshizawa's able to glare at him even as the other knights put their blades to her neck.

And the freak glares down at _me_ , laughs at _me_ , presses his heel down on _me_ , **"Look at you. Had an idea of what kinda troublemaker would come sauntering in the halls of my castle. Didn't think you'd be this much of a pushover. What were you even trynna do, huh? Whose bright idea _was_ it to try breaking into my castle?"**

But instead something rises up in my throat; a scratchy, rough noise that would sound like sobbing to the uninitiated, but soon enough it picks up and I laugh. I laugh and laugh and laugh so hard tears form at the edges of my eyes, I laugh so loudly that Yoshizawa and the knights all around us are left in shock, just watching the scene unfold.

 **"What the hell's wrong with you?"** Kamoshida's Shadow smirks, but behind that smirk is a whole host of things he wants to do to me for this show of disrespect.

"Who the hell would be so bored they'd break into _your_ castle intentionally!? Nothing here's useful to _anyone_! It's all just pictures of _you_ and who the hell cares about that--!?"

He kicks me in the face, **"Everyone in this place, that's who! All the little wormshits who look at me and heap their goddamn expectations on me, they fear me and they love me and they _need me_ and I deserve it _—_!"**

"You _deserve_ to get your balls cut off, not that you have any _—"_

And he wraps his football-sized hands around my neck, **"You think I need to impress you!? You think I need to impress _any of you!?_** **I'm king of this castle, I oughta be king of the whole goddamn world! You should be grateful I'm even here, sharing my air with you unworthy _—"_**

And my knife sinks into his eye.

Blood spurts right out as I rip it right outta the socket and he screams and yells and cries and lets me go, and as I fall to the ground I begin wheezing out laughter again. Tears fall down my eyes as I see Kana's hollow eyes staring into my own, as I see the holes she'd carved open into her arms, and through the laughter and the tears and the blood I mutter out "Satanael."

And as he erupts from my skull and flares his six wings outward, I'm screaming now and the sounds escaping from my mouth are alien, animal noises that human vocal chords shouldn't be able to replicate at all. The fire burns my eyeballs, my cheeks. It's seeping into my ears and into my eardrums and into the cochlea and I feel it continue to burn, burn through my skull, fry anything within and I'm laughing as he unveils his rifle—

He blows apart the knights like they're nothing, blasts them to smithereens and Yoshizawa watches, she watches as the Devil carves and blasts and burns through the whole world and I'm laughing harder and harder and **I feel so goddamned angry**

"RRRR _RRRRRRAAAAAGGGHHHH!"_

I grab Kamoshida, and he's afraid, he's _SCREAMING_ and he's wetting himself, I can see piss stream down his bare legs, I grab him and he's whimpering as I crush his windpipe more and more and punch his ribs _more and more_ so he can't escape. I drag him with me, my eyes still _burning_ and my teeth chatter as I hear a voice in my head telling me to _rip his skull off with his spinal cord and swing it around like a flail_ and then this whole nightmare will end and I can die too I can die and burn in Hell forever and ever and ever and ever _just like Kana would want_ **—**

But instead I throw him to the ground, grab Sakamoto by the scruff of his neck, and take Yoshizawa by the hand.

And we just run the hell out of the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Battles with Shadows are also gonna be gory, just so you guys know. Ain't just cuz I played Bloodborne way too much for my own good. Generally wanna make battles in this version of the story a lot less flashy and a lot more gritty. A basting of ultraviolence to really hammer home the dire straits the Thieves get into in the Vortex World.
> 
> Plus it's fun.


	14. Blackbeard, Dread Pirate of the Seven Seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ** "You seek power, correct? Then let us form a pact.  
>  Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc...?" **

**4 / 11 / 2016**

I manage to get Sakamoto and Yoshizawa in a nearby alleyway before anyone can spot us.

This Kamoshida person thought of the school as his "castle" or whatever. It stood to reason that getting out of range would've allowed us an escape.

Nothing on our faces. But my torso's killing me. Got a splitting headache and my left hand won't stop shaking. Yoshizawa's hair's all frazzled and she's sweating all over, and I can assume at least something in Sakamoto's broken.

"You okay?"

"I-I'm fine...," she says before she slumps against the wall and sits herself down. "I'm just so exhausted..."

I walk over to Sakamoto and smack him across the face. "Hey."

"Don't _hit_ him--"

He makes a _wuurgh_ sound, "I'm up, I'm up...!" before shaking his head and groaning, "A-are we dead?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

He blinks, "Two."

"We're not dead."

"Thank God--AAGH!" he keels over, clutching at his ribs, "Everything on me hurts..."

"Me, too...," groans Yoshizawa, "I'm more tired than anything else, though..."

"Hole up in the nurse's office, once we get there."

"School...! What time is it?"

I pull up my phone. "Half past noon."

"No...!" Sakamoto instantly gets to his feet and charges out the alleyway. "Can't afford no attendance...!"

I let out a hand to Yoshizawa, and she takes it, struggling to get to her feet.

Of course the instant we step out we find Sakamoto's run into two cops. He gestures to _us_ , of course, while trying to explain himself "W-we were trynna get to school, and we ended up at this weird castle!"

"Hand over your bags," says one of them. "You better not be doing any drugs."

"Wh-why would you think _that_!?"

The other cop turns to me and Yoshizawa, "You two his friends?"

I say I've "Never met him," while Yoshizawa just shakes her head.

"Well...," he clears his throat, "in any case, you three should head to school."

"Like I'm trynna _say_ , I don't know what's going on either!"

First cop says, "We passed by Shujin on our way here. All this _castle_ nonsense isn't helping your case."

Sakamoto turns to me, "C'mon, say something!"

I just turn away and begin walking to school. Yoshizawa, far too exhausted to pitch in, just follows me.

"F-fine! I'm goin'!"

* * *

When we three return to the school grounds with me, we all are of course scolded for our behavior. After all, we've missed four classes.

"We received a call from the _police_. Where _were_ you three?"

There is a man at the top of the stairs of Shujin's entrance. He is wearing a suit and he is glaring at the three of us, though he seems particularly concerned towards Yoshizawa. Before either she or I can respond, Sakamoto blurts out the stupidest answer possible, "A-a castle...?"

And our glares burrow into him like spears. He's rearing himself backwards at the sight of us as the man in the suit shakes his head, talks about how we've no intention of giving him an honest answer, but then we all hear a voice that's too familiar.

"What's this about a _castle_?"

He's as tall as he was in the Palace, though he looks more respectable. There's a friendly glint in his eyes, a neutral line on his mouth. He's wearing a white shirt and blue jeans, two whistles hanging from his neck; yet at the same time I see nothing but a vile king wearing nothing but a cape, some underwear, and a crown. He looks impassive, looks even a little friendly. But we three know exactly what he's really made of.

"K-Kamoshida...," grunts Sakamoto. I eye him carefully then, hoping he won't end up doing something else stupid out of impulse.

"You seem so carefree, Sakamoto," Kamoshida continues. "Quite a difference from when you did morning practice for the track team."

"Shut up!" Sakamoto screeches, "It's your fault that —!"

The man in the suit then growls at him, "How dare you speak to Mr. Kamoshida that way! And Yoshizawa-san, just what are you even doing with—!?"

"Now, now. I should've been more considerate, too," Kamoshida says through gritted teeth, and a smile too wide to be believable. "Let's say we were both to blame."

Man in suit shakes his head again and sighs, "In any case," then he focuses in on Yoshizawa, "you'll all have to come with me. It's undeniable that you're all extremely late, and you all look _dishevelled_ , what even—?"

And Yoshizawa suddenly collapses to her knees on the spot.

"Yoshizawa...!" the man in the suit approaches her, but Kamoshida remains where he is.

"Th-they helped me...!" she cries out. "I was being harassed! I-I've been feeling lethargic since this morning...some m-men approached me, demanded I come with them. These two saved me!"

The man in the suit just eyes both myself and Sakamoto. I crouch down and hoist her arm over my shoulder, helping her up. "I'll take her to the nurse's."

Man in the suit just nods apprehensively, "I'll guide you there. Follow me."

"By the way...," Kamoshida says to me, stopping me before I can follow Sakamoto and Yoshizawa up the stairs. "You're that new transfer student, correct?"

I nod in silence.

It's then that he looks at me quizzically, almost half-disturbed, as he asks, "Have we met somewhere...?"

"No, sir," I reply then.

He hums in affirmation, "Well, I'll overlook this just for today." _Then_ , he draws closer to me. I can feel his breath on me as he cautions, "I'm sure you've heard from the principal. Cause any trouble, and you're gone. Understand?"

People have been asking if I _understand_ things for the past three goddamn months now. "Yes, sir."

All the while I feel soundwaves blaring in my head, telling me that his neck is completely exposed.

"At any rate, hurry up. I'm sure Ms. Kawakami's tired of waiting." He smiles that plastic smile of his once more, and he says, "Good luck trying to enjoy your new school life."

* * *

"Being over half a day late on your first day? Care to explain yourself?"

When Kawakami's eyes meet mine, I feel the disgust in her nerves.

Can't say I was jumped. First inclination would've been to go to a hospital, not to _school_.

So I say all I can. "I'm sorry."

"You could've _walked_ here from your place and gotten here past second period."

"I know."

"And you were found with _Sakamoto_ , of all people."

"I'll keep my distance."

"You should. You were given fair warning about what'd _happen_ if you — "

"I understand."

"You said you understood _yesterday_."

Bitch, everything on me hurts right now. Why do you look like _your_ time's being wasted here? "It couldn't be helped."

Suddenly she gets up from her chair, "What's wrong?"

I realize too late my arm's wrapped 'round my torso. "I-I'm fine."

"Are you hurt somewhere, or — ?"

" _No_ ," I say as my ribs scream at me, "I'm fine."

"D-did Sakamoto...?"

"I'm alright. Past injury acting up. I'll be fine."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yes."

My voice is harsh, my eyes are harsher.

She just shakes her head. "Break's almost over. I'll have you introduce yourself once class resumes. But if you feel _anything_ , you head to the nurse's office, you understand?"

"Yes," I say through gritted teeth.

When I enter the classroom, I realize I'm getting ahead of myself.

_Super late on his first day?_

_Guy's crazy, obviously..._

_Don't look 'im in the eye! He'll slug you._

Everyone's eyes are on me and I mumble out words before realizing my voice is too low for anybody to hear.

Clear my throat.

_Looks normal, though. Sure it's him?_

_Positive. Guy apparently has a knife, watch out._

Teacher introduces me and I say my name while my skull splits in two and the bones in my chest throb.

Suspicious of me, they watch silently as I make my way over to my seat. In the chair in front of me, there is a girl dispassionately looking out the window. The same girl whom Kamoshida had taken into his car, just a few hours ago.

The day continues on like this, as it should. A whole lot of nothing happens, since it _is_ the first day of classes. I think about Maruki-san, and how disappointed he'll be with me when I return to the apartment.  My body begs me to let it lie down and die but purely out of spite I make myself stay the hell awake.

Kana appears throughout each class, often just standing in a corner. Sometimes her eyes are green.

By the end of it all I feel dizzy and my left hand _still_ won't stop shaking. My chest tightens the second I manage my way out the room, as the whole goddamn place shifts and turns. Windows turn into paintings of Kamoshida. People wandering the halls turn into knights. Lockers are shelves filled with ornaments and vases and I remember a vast desolate wasteland filled with walking rotting corpses with a thousand-foot tall abomination blaring out nuclear hell from its seven mouths and when I think of her I see her dressed in robes and skinned alive—

Soon enough I feel an arm on my shoulder and I brush myself away before my vision clears. Kawakami's looking at me with an air of concern.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay...?"

"I'm _fine_."

"You really should head to the nurse's office, if you aren't feeling well."

What, and let all of 'em _pity_ me now?

"Pity you?"

I said that out loud. "It's nothing."

"Maruki-san was concerned when we called him, earlier. You should head home as quickly as you can. And about Sakamoto-kun—"

Speak of the devil. A blonde guy walks towards us in an awkward kinda bow-legged way, and Kawakami's about to protest, but he leans in close to me and whispers, "Meet me in the nurse's."

Then he just walks off like nothing.

"That's why you shouldn't get involved. Understood?"

I nod absentmindedly. Sick of me, she leaves to do whatever the hell teachers do when they're done for the day.

* * *

"Sorry for callin' you down here like this."

"It's fine."

"Bet Kawakami already told you somethin' like, _Don't get involved with him_ , or whatever."

"You or Kamoshida. Taking my chances with you."

He just smiles at me. "Nurse is out buyin' meds. So we'll have to be brief."

"Won't the door be locked?"

"Nah. Door's been like this forever," he slides it open calmly. "Principal couldn't give a crap. Why do you think the nurse goes out to buy her own supplies?"

"Whole goddamn school's a piece of work..."

"Tell me about it."

We enter. Room's a tad dusty. But overall it's got everything it needs to be a nurse's office; cupboards filled with expired medicine, yellowed body charts hanging on the walls.

We pull open the curtain surrounding her bed and Sakamoto says, "Yo."

"S-senpai...?"

Yoshizawa looks like she's got the life drained outta her. "Are you alright?"

"No wounds. Not even that much _pain_ , but...I'm just very tired. That's all."

"Your lie was flimsy at best," I cut in suddenly. "We're lucky that teacher decided not to press the matter further."

"I know," she chuckles. "I had to think of something, though. I couldn't just let him point fingers at you two."

"Well, you saved _my_ ass," Sakamoto smiles. "Least for now, anyway..."

I tell her, "You'll be back to normal by tomorrow. It only lasts a day."

Yoshizawa's eyes turn firm as she sits up in bed, "How much about all this do you know...?" and Sakamoto's eyes turn stern, too.

"Yeah. Been wondering that, too."

"I've been where you are. That's all you need to know."

Yoshizawa continues on, "That cat person, you seemed to know him, too. You also had a Persona — "

"If you wanna spare yourselves a lifetime of nightmares, forget this day ever happened."

"Like I can do that," exclaims Sakamoto. "How do you know about all this?"

"Don't ask."

"I _have_ to ask. That place, that _castle_ —"

"Get rid of any feeling like you've gotta _confront_ something. Because you don't. Whatever you think you can do with the castle, it won't work out the way you want."

"Wait, senpai—"

"You don't understand," Sakamoto grunts out. "Kamoshida's a grade-A asshole.  I was in the track team! I was under him, and the kinda stuff he put us through—!"

"I don't care what you've been through, forget today ever happened."

Sakamoto grabs me by my collar, "Stop _talking_ like you know goddamn everything!"

Yoshizawa cries, "Stop it, _stop—!_ "

"Nobody's willin' to say anything against him!" Sakamoto shouts. "He's some effin' medalist who took the track team to finals! I _know_ that place has somethin' to do with—"

"You don't know a thing," I grab his arms and push him away from me. "You should be glad you don't."

"Senpai..."

I glare at Sakamoto, then shake my head at him. "Put it all behind you. Before you ruin your lives."

Then I leave the nurse's office.

* * *

"I got a call from your teacher today."

Maruki-san doesn't look happy, and he has every right not to. But it's not like I can tell him about Palaces.

"I'm sorry."

He sighs then, walking over to me. "Look. Just be careful. I've heard from your teachers as well that...some students are talking about you."

Lucky me, because if hearing rumors could kill, I'd be dead a thousand times over.

Even as I went home, past everyone; even as I tried to block them out I could still hear them whispering. Talking about whether or not I had a knife in my bag, that I had killed somebody, that I must've been doing drugs back home.

"It's odd, though...," Maruki says. "Throughout this area of Tokyo, the news reports kept you anonymous. The school even made efforts to keep your past under wraps," he says. "Your father told me he spoke to the principal about making sure what happened..."

"Guess somebody squealed," I shrug.

"Don't treat this like it's some casual occurrence," he grunts. "Your father told me to take care of you."

"You're doing a fine job," I reply to him. "I'm serious. I'm very grateful that you're willing to have me here. But...," I go to my room, and I feel the bones in my knees pop as I mutter, "this was bound to happen sooner or later. I'm just happy to get it over with."

"You're sure you're fine with this?" he asks somewhat gruffly, following me.

"Course not. Will you tell my father about today?"

"I will if this happens again."

"It won't."

He doesn't answer me then.

I fall into my bed a few seconds after I shut the door behind me and all the pain I suppressed comes at me in full force. Kana hangs over me, her hairs dangling over my face.  Vacant, her eyes stare at me as her wrists pour out blood.

"You'd hate what I've done with my life," I tell her, closing my own eyes.

* * *

.

.

.

**4 / 12 / 2016**

My torso aches and creaks all goddamn day. Soon as classes end I see a tall and burly man harassing my classmate in the hall. Blonde-haired girl with pigtails and blue eyes again. 

He's blocking the staircase down to the first floor.

"Hey there, Takamaki. Things've been pretty dangerous lately with all those accidents..."

“S-sorry, I have a photoshoot today,” the girl, Takamaki, winces, “For the special summer issue. Can’t afford to miss it…”

Anyone with eyes can see the girl can't stand to be in the same hallway as him.

So Kamoshida's either blind or stupid.

“Hey, now… Being a model’s fine and dandy, but don’t work your pretty little self to the bone. You mentioned you weren’t feeling well, right?"

“Yeah... I keep planning to go to the hospital, but I’ve been too busy. Sorry to worry you.”

“You must be lonely too. I feel bad for keeping your best friend at practice so often. Oh, and you'd better watch yourself 'round that transfer student. Rumor has it he's got a bit of a screw loose," he raises his hand up, almost as if to stroke her cheek-- "If something ever happened to you..."

" _Thanks_ ," she pulls herself away and practically hisses the next few words out. "I'll look out for him. I've gotta go."

Guy looks like he's gonna say more but she pushes herself past him, to the other staircase near the end of the hall. Before he can even catch wind of me I sidle behind him and head down the staircase he's too irritated to care about blocking anymore.

I tell myself to head home. To block everything out and let myself forget everything that's happened but God help me it doesn't work.

Of course I want nothing more than to just pretend that miserable place doesn't even exist. Why the hell would I ever wanna go into _anybody_ 's Palace again? But I think of the Manikins stuck in those cages. I think of the girl he's harassing and how she couldn't be the first, nor would she be the last. I think of his Shadow, strangling me the second I threw his narcissistic crap back in his face. I think of leaving him alive and how obviously screwed the students under his watch would be.

Every now and again, since January, I'd see her somewhere. Hovering over me, her hairs brushing up against my neck. In the corners of whatever room I'm in. I close my eyes and I see her staring back up at me. Sometimes she only appears for a half-second, before I register her presence and she disappears. Other times it lasts far too long for my own good. Sometimes my mind wanders and I fall down a rabbit hole of madness and blood and dead babies, and I stay stuck gazing at her vacant eyes for what feels like hours.

I've been stuck in that rabbit hole since yesterday.

So my head's somewhere else when I exit the gates and Sakamoto calls out, "Yo."

He and Yoshizawa were waiting for me, it seemed. Nothing if not persistent.

"Who are you again?"

"I _know you know_ who we are. We need to go back in that castle."

I just try to make my way past them, but Yoshizawa grabs ahold of my arm, "We can't just _pretend_ what we saw then didn't happen."

"I tried tellin' myself it was all just a dream!" Sakamoto runs in front of me and blocks passage with outstretched arms. "I couldn't do it! It's all connected to that bastard Kamoshida! I wanna find out what's up with that place, no matter what!"

"Same here--" Yoshizawa grunts as I pull my arm away from her. "Can you _really_ just cover your ears and close your eyes in the face of something like that?"

I shrug, "Sure you can."

"Maybe _you_ can, but _we_ can't. I don't know what happened to you, I don't know how you know what you know, but ****—if you want to wash your hands of everything, fine. But at least tell us what's going on! Please! Help us understand! _Senpai_!"

Oh to hell with it, who cares at this point. "Get out your phones."

"O-our phones?"

"Do it."

Sakamoto's first. "Okay...what about my phone?"

I look over at his screen. "You don't have it."

"Don't have _what_?"

"Yoshizawa. Yours."

She pulls out her phone. Screen's cracked. A little glitchy. But I see a bloated red eye in the center.

"What is it?" she asks.

"That app."

"Oh, _that_ one? I saw it last night. I thought I deleted it..."

"That's what you use to get back in the castle."

"Y-you for real!?" cries Sakamoto, leaning in to check her phone. "You're not messin' with us, right?"

I tap her screen.

The letter appear in a white, bold and thick Serif font that says plainly **「** **VORTEX WORLD NAVIGATOR** **」** **.** Then they cut abruptly to a screen that tells us:

**Humanity's hearts are bound by misery, torment, and the truth of meaninglessness…**

→ **Welcome to the Vortex World! Call me Nyarly!** **The human heart's a very confusing and scary place at times, but never fear! If you've got any questions, I'll always be here to answer 'em! Just click on the little squid on the upper-left hand corner, and I'll be right there in a jiffy!**

**Palace Ruler:  
Palace Location:  
Palace Distortion:**

"What the hell...?"

I scroll down her screen and find **PALACE LOG.** Sure enough.

 **「 PALACE LOG 」  
** **I. 4 / 11 / 2016 -** **PR: Suguru Kamoshida | PL: Shujin Academy | PD: Castle**

"Go nuts," I say as I move past them.

"W-wait, this is it?" Sakamoto exclaims. "This is all it takes?"

"Yes. Now leave me alone. I want no part of it."

"Are you sure?" Yoshizawa asks, eyes firm.

"Do whatever the hell you people want. I'm not gonna be dragged down along with you."

Sakamoto just glares at me; Yoshizawa looks a little sad. Then they get to deliberating with each other what the hell to do next. Once I'm a considerable distance I turn around and find they've gone.

Good riddance.

I turn to head into the city, ready to feel like I wanna drown myself for the rest of my life.

But for some reason, I remember how Kamoshida's eyes were, when he gazed upon Yoshizawa in that deep and dark dungeon, and my imagination goes a place it shouldn't.

And I think of what could happen if, for just one more time, I don't walk away.

* * *

At the front of the castle. Massive wooden gates blocking the way through the inner halls. Drawbridge is down, though. So there's at least safe passage into the front courtyard.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

Sakamoto's wearing his uniform while Yoshizawa's got her Vortex World attire on, big shoulder pads and all.

I grit my teeth. "I changed my mind."

Yoshizawa actually looks a little pleased at this, "You mean you're going to help us investigate?"

"Insofar as _investigate_ means keeping you both alive until you realize you've gotten in over your head."

"Also, _that's_ your getup?"

I realize that I'm dressed in exactly what I wore in Kana's Palace; black longcoat, red gloves, white mask. I barely suppress the memories when they come, even now.

"I've done this before," I tell them. "It didn't end pretty. That's all you've gotta know. This place is called a Palace. Kamoshida believes that the whole school's his castle. He has a deep, unconscious desire buried within himself that _compels_ him to view Shujin in this way. The app we activated enables us to breach our reality and go into this mental world of his."

"Well," Yoshizawa scratches the back of her head, "I suppose that explains some things..."

"I knew it!" Sakamoto shouts, before smashing an arm against the front door.

"S-Sakamoto-senpai?"

"All this time...I knew everythin' about him, _all this time_! I was effin' _right_ about him _—_!"

I cover his mouth. "You keep shouting, Kamoshida'll send his knights after us."

I unhand him and he just nods, "S-sorry..."

"From what we could tell yesterday, Kamoshida didn't seem to know what was going on here, did he...?" asks Yoshizawa.

"No. This place is all founded on his unconscious mind. Meaning for as much as he really thinks of the school as his castle, and himself a king, he still refuses to own up to it."

"That's horrible...," she shudders.

"To think you three would have the gall to come back here, after leaving me behind..."

Familiar voice begets a familiar face. We all turn to see the cartoon cat-thing emerging from out the shadows, its golden saucer eyes kinda glaring at us. I'd think it was cute, if not for the nigh-overwhelming urge I have to pancake its goddamn bobblehead.

"It was sheer luck I was able to get out of there, in all the commotion. Been a long time, Kazuya."

"You say _we've_ got the gall. But after what happened all those months ago...you're just prancin' around in another Palace. Like it never even happened."

Cat narrows its eyes at me. "I know what I want. I can't just _stop_."

"So you _do_ know each other...," mutters Yoshizawa.

"Wish I didn't."

Cat folds its arms, "I worked with him on a pretty big mission back in the beginning of the year. But...well. Things went sour. We went our separate ways not long after."

I start laughing, really loudly, so suddenly that it startles the other two, " _Things went sour...!? _That's all you took away from _—!?_ "

Then we hear screams, bellowing out from inside the Palace. Sounds like someone's getting skinned alive.

"Wh-what the hell!?" cries Sakamoto. "What was that!?"

"Prolly the slaves held captive here," Cat licks its paw. "After you guys broke outta your cell, Kamoshida's been pretty pissed."

"We saw people stuck in cells yesterday...I'm pretty sure they're from our school."

"They're Manikins. Don't pay any attention to them."

"Mannequins?" Yoshizawa repeats.

"No. _Manikins_ ," says the cat. "They're not real people."

"What's that supposed to mean? They're real, I-I saw 'em, stuck in those cages...!"

"Remember, this place is a _mental_ world. Everything here that we see takes place deep in Kamoshida's unconscious mind. He thinks the school is his castle, so it is. He seems to think that the students of your school are just... prisoners he can torment, whenever he wants."

Sakamoto chuckles a little, "Figures. Heh. I _just_ thought he was an asshole, but...as it turns out, asshole's the nicest thing you could call him. Hey, Cat-thing!"

"My _name_ is Morgana _—"_

"Do ya know where those voices're coming from!?"

"You want me to take you to them? They're back where _we_ were."

"If what Kamoshida does to the people here is similar to stuff he does in reality, I might be able to do something! I-I might recognize some of their faces! If I see 'em in the real world I might be able to talk to them about what's happening!"

Not exactly unintelligent of him. But. "We'll be going back down to those dungeons. Meaning we'll be faced with the guards again. Are you ready?"

"I can't just let him keep goin' _on_ like this...!"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Hell _yeah_ I'm ready!"

I turn to Yoshizawa, "You too?"

"I've already come this far. If all this is true, then I can't just turn away now."

Damn the both of you, then. "The second there's any danger, we leave. Understand?"

They both nod at me.

"Look at you, Team Dad," Cat sneers. "Come on. There's a ventilation shaft I came through. Big enough for you all to fit, I think."

* * *

We worm our way through the vent and manage to return to the dark and damp dungeons. Banners hang along the walls, featuring Kamoshida's stupid grinning face. The weirdest thing, though? We get to the cells we'd passed by a day ago. Completely empty now.

"What the hell...? Since when did they all just...?"

I shake my head, "Probably transferred to another place, for more elaborate tortures."

"What the hell's happening!?"

"Hold on," Cat says, "y'hear that?"

Shuffling of steel leggings. We'd heard that just yesterday, when the knights came at us and tried to stick us on their blades _—_

"Quick!" Cat shouts, pointing to a nearby wooden door. "There! Hurry! We should be able to hide 'til they leave!"

We follow it inside, and I hear a _ping_ noise in my phone _—_ the room itself is pretty small. A storage space, more or less; boxes and wooden planks litter the whole place and lean against filthy brick walls.

"The Shadows likely won't come in here," says the cat.

"How can you tell...?" mutters Sakamoto.

Place suddenly shifts and shudders and we see brief glimpses of a classroom, desks and all, before everything fades back to normal.

"What...!?" Yoshizawa cries.

"This place is a Safe Room," says the cat. "His cognitive grip on the school is limited here. So the Shadows can't reach this place in particular."

"S-so, he...God, he's deluded," Sakamoto laughs. "I think it took me a while before it actually sank in... that _son of a bitch_."

Yoshizawa puts a hand on his shoulder, "What _happened_ between you and him?"

He winces, closing his eyes and balling his hands into fists. "It was when I was still in track and field. He was our coach, and...well, he started a little rough around the edges. But we got it, y'know? We thought hey, he's the medalist here. He's putting us through this so we can become better athletes. But y'stay with him long enough, barkin' orders at you, and you realize he doesn't actually give a crap about makin' us athletes. He just gets off on seeing us squirm. One day I had it with him. People were tired. People were angry. I told him I wasn't gonna let him tire us out anymore. Things got heated, so heated he...," he shakes his head, "I lost it, right then and there. And now...," he clutches his left leg, "now I can't even run anymore, and the track team's disbanded."

Cat looks sad, but doesn't say anything. Yoshizawa speaks herself, "A-and _no one_ spoke out against him?"

"He called it self-defense. And everyone believed him. Didn't care what _I_ had to say. And why would they choose my word over the guy who helped put Shujin on the map, huh?"

"Did he really?" asks Yoshizawa. "To be honest, this place is a little obscure...I didn't even know it existed until my Dad told me I'd be going here."

"To be fair, our only claim to fame really is Kamoshida," Sakamoto shruggs. "Guy took the volleyball team to nationals once. Once an asshole, always an asshole."

Cat lets out a _Mwehehe_ , "Y'stay here long enough, you just might eat those words."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll let you know later on. Right now, your biggest concern's finding the Manikins and seeing if you recognize any of them, right?"

He nods, "Yeah."

I pull open the door just a crack. No guards. Present or approaching.

"Anyone there?" asks Yoshizawa.

"Hold on." I check my phone. I find a new message, and something I longed to see yesterday:

** LOCATION ACQUIRED: Dungeon Hall, Left Wing  
Do you wish to exit the Palace through Entryway?  
** Y /N

I want nothing more than to hit Y. But we're not done here. "If you're gonna do this, we do it now."

Sakamoto nods again, "Yeah. Yeah. I'm good."

* * *

After ten minutes of shuffling around and following the screams.

** Kamoshida's Training Hall of Love ** is the sign that appears above the doorway. Written in gold-plate, too.

And we enter and the sight's something to behold.

The cells are large and wide enough to be gymnasiums unto themselves, and the bars that separate them from us are much like those you'd see in zoos. First one contains students getting their bare backs whipped into shape by guards with batons. Second one's got ten students, running along treadmill tracks towards a single bottle of water; at their backs is a meat grinder. Third one's just got students hanging from the ceiling like hogs, getting pelted with volleyballs straight from a cannon. At the end of this hall is another staircase, leading upward.

Twenty-seven more cells, lined up against one another, each featuring just as gruesome and unnecessary torture. Most of the students don't scream. The ones who do sound like they're dying. But they're all covered in grievous injuries; bloated black eyes, legs bent with bone sticking out their shins. Arms being stretched thin, dislocated beyond all reason.

"My God...," mutters Sakamoto. "I-if this is what he thinks o' the students, then...!"

"I can't imagine what he must be putting them through in real life," mutters Yoshizawa.

Narcs get their kicks off bolstering their ego. "You recognize any of 'em?"

Tears begin welling up in his eyes, as he grips the bars of the first cell. "I recognize _all_ of them."

"Sakamoto..."

"Some of 'em...they're my friends. Or at least they were. I effed everything up and they still gotta deal with all this _—"_

I tell him, "Hurry it up."

"What?"

"More we delay, more chance knights'll show up. You know their names and faces?"

"Yeah, yeah I do, j-just _—"_ he does a once over to the first cell, mumbling out a few names, " _—_ Nishiki, Takeishi, Masaru, Matsumoto _—_ okay. Okay. Let's go."

We check every cell. One by one by one. All thirty of them. Sakamoto keeps track of the people he recognizes; says their names twice over before going to the next cell. Some people he doesn't recognize. Some are freshmen. Some are people who hated his guts. Others have already graduated from the school. None of them are girls.  Which is strange.

But then we reach the final cell, after about fifteen minutes of this.

"What the hell."

There're seemingly no torture devices. No flailing, suffering students. The room's just dark and filthy, no windows or light. Grey, asbestos-laden walls, covered in feces and piss. In the center of the room is a massive gorilla, about thrice the size of a man. It's got yellow fur, almost a shade of gold, but its hands and feet are browned. It's covered in red, bloody splotches and is missing its left leg, which has been shoddily wrapped in aged bandages. The creature breathes like it doesn't know how, its eyes are empty and soulless and defeated, and it has a spiked collar wrapped around its neck.

At the top of the cell lies a wooden plaque with hastily carved kanji:

**RYUJI SAKAMOTO, THE VULGAR APE**

Sakamoto just glares at the ape, glares at it like he hates it more than he hates even Kamoshida, and as he does his hands on the bars tighten and I hear a popping noise as he grits his teeth _—_

And just as I'm about to tell him _We Have to Go_ , the Ape stares right at us all, its eyes lightening up the instant it spots us.

"Uh-oh."

** frrrr **

"What _—"_

** _REEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL_ **

It lunges at the bars and we all rear backwards and it would bite into our faces if it could, it yells and cries and thrashes madly, slobbering spit out its mouth and pissing all over itself as it slobbers. But then the bars flash blue _—_ and blinding white and black lights flare and flame as we cover our eyes and the beast lets out one more terrible scream, before it's left huffing and groaning and crying on the floor, a smoking, jittery mess.

Sakamoto's too shaken to be able to process what's happened, and who the hell could blame him.

 **"Y'know, apes are some of the most intelligent creatures in the animal kingdom.** **Or at least they should be, right? After all, we evolved from them. Potential had to come from somewhere."**

A naked man comes down from the staircase, two guards in golden armor sets following close behind him. He wears only a cape and a crown, and an eyepatch where I'd stabbed him last. His remaining eye blazes a brighter gold than ever before, and he carries a small green button in his right hand. I whirl around to try and see what's behind us, but we're too late even then. Guards have already burst in through from where we'd come; another set of knights all dressed in gold plating.

So we're trapped.

And for all his bluster and all his hatred of the man, Sakamoto looks far too drained to even process what's happening.

**"I come down here from my throne room every now and again, to watch over the proceedings and see how far my little slaves are making it. See which ones are wheat and which ones are chaff. Thanks to you, though...they've all started lookin' like chaff to me. Lucky I started coming down when I did, no?"**

"You think you can get away with this...? Hurting all these people and laughing at them!?" shouts Yoshizawa, as the Cat brandishes his cutlass.

"I've memorized their faces real good! You're going down!" Sakamoto cries.

**"Seems it's true when they say _barking dogs seldom bite_. Or rather, _apes_ , in this case..."**

I interrupt, because I just can't resist. "Big talk for a guy who got lost an eye, last time we met."

**"You...I'll deal with _you_ later. You're surrounded by some of my best men. Unlikely you're to survive. But for now, I just wanna talk to him. The _Track Traitor_ who acted out in violence. Ending his teammates' dreams. Oh, I can only imagine the pain of the others who were dragged into your selfish act."**

"You _started it_ , you piece of **—**!"

**"You know, you were my favorite one."**

"BS. You put me through the training worse than anyone else, and everyone else had it real bad already—!"

**"That's 'cause I saw in you a lot of potential. Really. I saw your record when I was assigned to you guys. Saw how much effort you put in, both on and off the field. You inspired your teammates, though they'd never tell you. They looked up to you a lot. Least until you blew it."**

Sakamoto glares at him, as the knights encroach upon us from all sides. "Stop it...," he pleads, slumping to the floor in his helplessness. "Please, just stop..."

** "You were stronger than you'd any right to be. Determined. Bold. A little reckless, but hey, aren't we all? I pushed you to become a champion. And what do you do? You try to hit me square in the face while I rile you up." **

"You didn't give a damn about me or anyone else! You just wanted to boost your goddamned ego!"

** "That's what I'm talking about—so emotional! Though it was only temporary, have you forgotten my kindness in supervising track practice?" **

"Wasn't no practice—" cries out Sakamoto, slowly rising from the floor, "—it was physical abuse! You just didn't like our team...!"

** "It was nothing but an eyesore! The only one who needs to achieve results is me! The coach who got fired was hopeless, too...I'd have only settled it with breaking his star athlete's leg, but he just kept pushing." **

"You sick bastard...!"

** "Want me to break your other leg, too? School'll call it self-defense anyway! Just sit there and watch, like the scum you are." **

"W-watch what?"

Suddenly, in a motion far too quick for us to have determined on the spot, the bars to the Ape's cage retract.

Two knights push myself and Yoshizawa in the open cage _—_

And then the bars come back up.

"Y-you bastard...!"

"Kazuya!" Cat yells from out the cage.

I glare at Kamoshida, from the bars, as Yoshizawa's eyes widen and she grips the bars herself, "Senpai...!"

Kamoshida glares right back at me. **"There's a Beast in all of us. Don't you know? Every single last one of us. You can't get by on good intentions and spirit alone. Goes by many names; money, strength, power, love, fame, affection. It's a Beast so monstrous and all consuming it needs to feed and be fed. Think it doesn't exist or you don't have it...well. You're an idiot who won't last long."**

"Stop it, please, God, I'm begging you, let 'em go...!"

** "God wishes He were me, and why wouldn't He?" ** He laughs at Sakamoto, grabbing him by his blonde locks. **"You raged at me, had the nerve to oppose _me_ , even when nobody else did. I always kinda liked that about you, you know? Only one who wouldn't avert his eyes in the face of a King. Bet you regret it now, don'tcha? Because now...today's the day, I feed the Beast."**

"Oh my God..."

I turn around and I see the Ape suffer from a seizure. It huffs and it heaves and its voice grows deeper, blacker, more furious. Its muscles practically explode to ten times their size. The Ape grows considerably larger, large enough to almost reach the ceiling as its bones crack and snap and make thunderous noises to help it expand. Its dull and dead eyes suddenly flare a blazing red and its snout grows longer, almost like a canine's; its massive hands grow even larger and develop claws as its feet cause craters in the ground.

The Ape is twenty-five feet tall. With its massive hands, skull-sized teeth, and overall size and weight, it could kill the both of us in thousands of different ways that'd make us flat-out unrecognizable.

**"Ya should've killed me when you had the chance, transfer student! You should've stabbed my brains, even in the middle of the hall you just stood there, _listening to me_ , instead of doing somethin'! And now you're gonna die wearing that stupid coat!"**

"I...I...I'm sorry...!" Sakamoto cries out. "I dragged you all into this, and I...!"

"No tears," Cat smiles at him. "It's a waste of perfectly good suffering."

"What...?"

** "What?" **

"Kazuya's got this."

** "He ain't got _anything_ , cat, not while _—!"_ **

"Remember the Matador, Kazuya? This thing ain't even close!"

Good to know. "Persona."

And Satanael blasts the Ape's face open, carves him up and tears out his insides. Blood splashes everywhere, floods the floors, rises up into the seams of my boots as Sakamoto and Yoshizawa _watch_ , they watch as my Persona rips and violates and turns the Ape inside out and back again seven times over.

Yoshizawa's shaking. Kamoshida's just staring at me, mouth agape. The knights do nothing.

And Sakamoto's _still_ looking at me, like he's dumb and deaf and blind.

" _Sakamoto_!" I shout at him. "He took _everything you loved_ from you! And now you're gonna let him take _even more_!?"

At that, Sakamoto stays silent for a long time. Then he looks at the King, dead in the eyes.

He's rising up from the ground as he says, "You're calling _me_ scum...after everything _you_ did...!?" then he walks forward, the King still grinning that mad grin of his as Sakamoto proclaims, "No...that's...that's what you are. All you think about is using people. You're the real scumbag, _Kamoshida_!"

It's at this point Kamoshida rears back, ordering the Knights at his sides, **"Silence him at once! He can't talk to a king that way!"**

" _You're no king_!" cries out Sakamoto, giving Kamoshida the pointer finger. "You were an Olympic medalist who _failed_ so hard at life he ended up becoming a school teacher! So you can shut up and _stop looking down on me with that stupid smile on your face_!"

And then Sakamoto starts hearing voices of his own.

** "You made me wait quite a while." **

Sakamoto's eyes blare open as he clutches at his head and begins to scream; there's a thousand needles penetrating his skull and his knees feel like lead weights are pulling them down to the ground.

** "You seek power, correct? Then let us form a pact.  
Since your name has been disgraced already, why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc...?" **

His jaw is hanging and his eyes are twitching and he's making noises like he's entering cardiac arrest. He's hurting on every single part of his body, but the pain makes him want to move, to live, to do everything he couldn't do out of his fear.

** "The other you who exists within desires it thus.  
If you accept my bargain, then you will walk down a path of no return!" **

It is at this point Sakamoto laughs somewhat, through the overwhelming agony coursing through his cranium.

** "Very well! The skull of rebellion is your flag henceforth!  
Thou art I, and I am thou!" **

Something black and steel forms along the upper half of his face, and he grips it with both hands. As if his arms command him to. He feels the skin around his eyes tear and rip; he keeps on screaming, but it's less out of pain and more out of ecstasy. He feels the steel clamp around the skin over his temples, and he doesn't care if the resulting pull makes him die of blood loss.

** "From the sea of thy soul, I cometh!" **

Yoshizawa watches the scene unfold, finding the courage and the strength to stand on her own two burnt and withered feet. The King and his knights can't help but watch. Half of his knights don't know what to do, the other half of his knights are too afraid to try anything. The King is both ignorant and afraid, and all he and I can do is watch as Sakamoto _with one last baleful scream_ tears the steel from his face and unleashes himself upon the world.

His Persona is a skeleton with bronze bones, dressed in black leather garments and ragged pants. On each of his fingers he bears a golden bejewelled ring. He wears a captain's hat with a stereotypical skull and crossbones, and along the lines of his jaw bone hang strings of black pearls held together by tiny chains. Like some skateboarder, he rides upon a wooden ship that's about twice his size; the ship bears a bowsprit made of steel, with a manic grin painted along its hull.

** "I am Blackbeard, Dread Pirate of the Seven Seas!" **

It's at this point Sakamoto begins to change.

Something bright and blue engulfs his form, and when the blue fades I see his clothes have transformed. He's wearing a coat now, one with steel running along his spinal cord. The overalls hanging from his waist have turned into bandoliers, and there's a red scarf hanging from his neck. His plaid pants have turned stark black, kneepads wrapping 'round his knees and boots encasing his feet. He laughs now, glaring and grinning at the King before us all—and I see another man who's condemned himself to the same fate as I have.

" _Kamoshida_! You think I'm an ape, fine! I'll smash up the halls o' your castle one brick at a time! You ain't gonna take _nothing else from me!_ Let's go, _Blackbeard_!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changed Ryuji's Persona cuz  
> A) Blackbeard's a cool name lemme tell you what for  
> B) Doing some research (and by that i mean a quick stroll on Wikipedia) showed me that Blackbeard was more prone to using the *image* of a feared pirate to intimidate people, and seldom used violence to get what he wanted. Thought that fit Ryuji a little better, as while Ryuji can be pretty rough and tumble, he's at heart a good guy. His awakening enabled him to channel all that intimidating energy into power that he can use to actually help people this time around.  
> C) Does Captain Kidd count as a 'Dread Pirate'? Cuz that's an awesome epithet and I thought it fit Blackbeard better :P


	15. Institutionalized Manipulation and Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I'm the biggest hypocrite of 2015_  
>  _Once I finish this, witnesses will convey just what I mean_  
>  _I mean, it's evident that I'm irrelevant to society_  
>  _That's what you're telling me, penitentiary would only hire me_  
>  _Curse me till I'm dead_  
>  _Church me with your fake prophesizing that I'mma be just another slave in my head_  
>  _Institutionalized manipulation and lies_  
>  _Reciprocation of freedom only live in your eyes_
> 
> _—_ Kendrick Lamar, _The Blacker the Berry_

**4 / 12 / 2016**

Sakamoto's eyes bleed as he breathes and hisses and starts letting out a little laughter of his own. Kamoshida _bolts it_ and leaves his guards behind, leaves them to deal with Blackbeard and the cat.

They're both sandwiched between golden knights; three at their left, three at their right. Hallway's narrow, far too narrow for Sakamoto or the cat to run past them.  Yoshizawa and I are stuck behind bars that'll fry us the second we touch them.

The three knights on their left transform completely. The middle one (I hear _Eligor_ being whispered in my head) turns into a large knight riding a horse that's twice the size it ought to be. It wears red armor and a horned helm, wielding a lance that could run through three people like a barbecue stick. Its allies each transform into knights in silver armor ( _Berith_ ), riding upon blood-red stallions and wielding steel spears.

"Mercurius!"

Cat's smart enough to send a gust of wind upon the soldiers to their right, sending them tumbling away from all the rest of us. Allowing Sakamoto time to get the three horsemen at his right.

" _Blackbeard_! Take 'em down!"

Blackbeard charges at _Eligor_ , and the red horseman charges back. Things end up rather predictably; Eligor's able to run his lance through Blackbeard's bones and out the back of his coat. But by the time that's happened, Blackbeard's steel bowsprit has driven itself through the neck of Eligor's horse, piercing right through Eligor's crimson armor as well.

Whatever pain Sakamoto's feeling, he doesn't let it show. He just smiles and laughs and lets his bloodshot eyes flare wide, " _Blackbeard!"_

Blackbeard grips his bony hands upon the two large horns on Eligor's helm. Being a skeleton, he lacks all facial features, yet somehow his jawbones curve upward to make a smile.

I pull Yoshizawa away from the bars then, on instinct--

What starts as a spark flares and screams and rages into a full blown lightning storm, burning and searing and spreading through the knights' armors and it would've surely fried us, too, were we as close to the bars as we had been. Over the flashes and cracks of thunder I hear Sakamoto laugh and cry and scream and let out all the agony he's been keeping inside for God knows how long.

The knights are fried, their armors black and ash, smoke erupting out their eyeholes and any open space in their suits, no matter how narrow.

Sakamoto hisses and seethes, blood spewing from his eyes like tears, and as Blackbeard vanishes in a flurry of flames, as the knights on the other end transform into their own unique beasts, the cat shouts, "Kazuya! Blow the bars open!"

Cat pulls Sakamoto away as the other beasts charge, the knights-now-monsters raging and frothing at the teeth just for a chance to devour the two of them--

_BOOM._

Only for them all to get blown away into blood and gore, along with the bars.

Bits and pieces of their destroyed bodies line the walls, their blood and guts piled up at our feet. Yoshizawa's anxious to go over, far too anxious. But she does find it in herself to wade her feet through the insides of mythological beasts. I follow her shortly behind and I see Sakamoto. I see him, shuddering and huffing and wheezing his lungs out. Any second now, he looks like his body's gonna give out.

I grab his shoulders.

He looks at me, like it took a second for it to register. Tears, real tears, start forming at the edges of his bloody eyes. He groans, gritting his teeth and glaring at me, "I'm never gonna stop makin' him pay."

"Alright, then."

We hear more knights coming from the staircase, we see them shuffling down, they see all their murdered brethren and transform into abominations that belong to the human unconscious, and I smile and Sakamoto smiles and Yoshizawa grips her mask and the Cat's fur turns to quills--

I say "Persona," and make the halls run red with their remains.

I watch this all happen. I watch myself, and I watch the rest of them follow me through this damned castle. My head's all too numb and my body acts all on its own. It all carries me back two years, where I watched myself nearly murder a man to save a girl I didn't even know.

By the time I'm looking through my own eyes again, we're all in the exact same alleyway I'd brought us to the first time we exited Kamoshida's Palace.

"S-senpai..."

I turn to Yoshizawa and I see she's almost on the verge of tears. Of course she's scared; her trembling legs show that much. But from the look in her eyes, she seems more disappointed than anything else.

Sakamoto heaves and clutches his chest and keeps a hand to the wall--after spewing out his guts right in front of us he throws himself against the wall behind him, sliding down half-dead.

"Sakamoto-senpai!"

"H-holy shit...," his eyes are wide and he's staring a thousand miles ahead, right through Yoshizawa, who's knelt down to get herself level with him. "I can't believe I just did all that..."

"Are you alright?"

"I, I, I think so," he stammers, putting a hand to his face. "But God...I could sleep _forever_..."

She chuckles, "I'm glad you're okay... we're lucky we all made it out in one piece."

But Sakamoto's features twist in frustration, "Dammit, I wish we coulda settled things then and there. Kamoshida's still livin' it large in his own head and I'm here pukin' my guts out..."

Meaning we didn't kill him yet. Good to know. "Take what you can get."

"Damn...," he chuckles a little, hanging his head low, before balling his hands up into fists and rising to his feet. "Dragged you both around a lot, huh...? I'm sorry 'bout all that."

"No need. We chose to come with you."

Yoshizawa smiles at me, then at him, "And it wasn't a total loss. Now, we have a chance to put a stop to all the abuse!"

"Hell yeah! I totally remember the faces of the guys Kamoshida was treating like slaves! Once we make 'em fess up to the abuse, he's done for!"

"Highly doubt that."

A high-pitched voice echoes my thoughts and we turn to face it; a small black cat with a white muzzle and paws.

"Wh-what the...?"

"I know you're having some kinda power high and all, but you shouldn't delude yourself."

"That voice...is that _you_ , Morgana?" cries Yoshizawa.

"In the flesh. Or fur, I guess. Ain't you happy to see me?"

"Th-the cat's talkin'!?"

"I am _NOT_ a cat. This is just what happened when I came to this world."

"Y-you came to our world!?" Sakamoto gasps, "Does that mean you've got a phone!?"

Holy _shit,_ this guy has no right having survived as long as he has.

"You don't need one when you're at my level."

"Shit, shit, _shit_ , this is so weird, what the hell even--?"

"Senpai, after everything that's happened, I don't think seeing a talking cat is the freakiest thing to happen to you today."

"Yeah, but, I'm still trynna just process all this _Palace_ and _Persona_ crap, and now we got a talking cat on our--"

"I am _not_ a cat. And speaking of Palaces...I wanna reiterate that it's doubtful you're gonna actually resolve anything by _talking_ to the victims. That said, I advocate for a much more permanent solution."

"We're not _killing_ him," grunts Yoshizawa.

"I don't plan for you to," says the cat. "But lemme ask one question: do you really think pressuring his victims to speak up will help stop him in any way?"

"It can't hurt to try," says Sakamoto.

"Well. You can always steal his Treasure."

"Treasure...?"

Something in me screams to shut the cat up and tell them both to ignore it. The better part of me says to let the cat keep talking.

But the cat cuts in before either of them can even hear me. "That castle, his Palace—is formed as a result of his distorted desires. In short, his desire for _something_ led him to view the school as his castle, and the students his slaves. At the source of this Palace lies a manifestation of the desire that caused all this in the first place. Once we get rid of _that_ , AKA his _Treasure_ , we'll be able to get rid of the distortion at the root of his heart."

Sakamoto's eyes perk wide open. "For real!? Wait, what would _that_ mean, like, he'd turn good or something?"

"Kamoshida's distorted desires will be undone. All the guilt and all the shame held down by the weight of his own depravity—it'll spring out from his heart and he won't be able to control it."

"So he'll be...a changed man?" Yoshizawa asks.

"Though a change of heart will be triggered in him, any and all misdeeds he's committed in the real world will still have happened. But he'll be unable to bear the weight of them, so he'll just turn himself in to the police himself!"

Sakamoto rubs the back of his head, "That sounds awesome, but..."

"But what?"

"Is there...a catch?"

The cat, without hesitation, says, "If things go too far, the owner of the Palace may suffer a mental shutdown in the real world. Death is indeed a possibility."

"A mental shutdown...?" exclaims Yoshizawa, appalled.

"Erasing a Palace means triggering a change of heart, essentially. After all, humans are nothing without their desires. The will to eat, to sleep, to love, to hate, to fear...to even wish to live, or die. Those are the stakes involved."

"Why would we even go for that, if there's that kind of risk involved...!?" she cries out.

Cat cooly explains, "Because if we do things _right_ , then things'll go smoothly."

"Or kill himself out of shame," I grunt. They all turn to me. Yoshizawa in particular looks particularly unnerved. But I continue. "Like I said. You go through with this, you walk on a tightrope."

"We can't _kill_ the guy!" Sakamoto then cries out. "I-I mean...if we did, then...!"

"Sheesh, I come all this way, and this is what I get," the cat grumbles in annoyance. "It's not like anyone'll figure it out! Besides, aren't you willing to face those kinds of risks!? You all have Personas! You can fight! You're the _only_ ones who can!"

"What...?" mutters Yoshizawa.

"Your Personas are who you are! They're you! They're living, breathing legends all living in your mind because they _are your mind_! Now that you've attained a will of rebellion, you can rise up high and above anyone with a Palace! It should be no problem for any of you!"

"That ain't the point!" Sakamoto again cuts in. "Geez, you make it sound so easy..."

At that point, I hear a sound in my head, something that sounds like a taut wire frame snapping in two, and my mouth speaks what I tried to keep inside. "Who cares?"

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa turn to face me. "What did you say...?"

"This guy's a malignant narcissist who gets off on abusing his students. Y'think anyone's gonna be sad to see him go?"

"You can't be serious," Yoshizawa huffs, "we aren't going to kill him!"

I glare at her, at them both, "It's not like he doesn't deserve it."

"It ain't about what he deserves! If we just ran around doing whatever we wanted, we'd be no better than Kamoshida! And besides, I thought you hated goin' into Palaces. You didn't want to be anywhere near this shit, like, an hour ago. Now you're talking like we're the crazy ones for _not wanting to kill--_ "

"Going back into his Palace is the _last_ thing I want. Every single time I've stepped foot in that goddamn place I remember things I wish I could forget. But grow the hell up. He's been in this school for years. You really think he's smart enough to keep it all under wraps by himself?"

"I'll have to agree with Kazuya. Do you really think that investigating's gonna get you anything?" Cat asks. "Think about it, if Kamoshida's desires are _this distorted_ , then he must've been at this sorta thing for a while now. You'd think someone in the student body or the faculty would've caught onto his abuses of power by now."

"Who in their right mind would wanna help this asshole harass and abuse his own students?"

"People who know Shujin's only worth looking at, as long as they've got him attached to their name. And besides. Considering everything he's done to the male students, I'd hate to know what he does to the girls."

Yoshizawa tells me sternly, "We can't assume that."

"I think we can take a guess."

"We can't _guess_ that, we need evidence!"

"His Shadow planned to have his way with you the instant he saw you."

"We need something more concrete than that--!"

"His Shadow represents literally everything he _doesn't wanna see_ about himself. It's what he thinks and feels and knows every goddamn day. And you're saying we need more evidence?"

"Jumping into his _Palace_...it's not the only option available to us right now." She glares at me firmly. "We can still investigate people, look into the situation ourselves. We can't put somebody's life on the line. That shouldn't even be an option. Not when there's still more we can do."

"We're not gonna kill him," declares Sakamoto.

Cat sighs, "Look, if you wanna investigate, investigate. I can't really stop you. Just know...humans are animals, first and foremost. Though they've evolved to the point where they can discern right from wrong, justice from injustice...in the end, the best people and the worst people will stop at nothing to get what they want."

Cat runs up a fire escape ladder and its black form sinks into the shade of the wall and the bars of the iron. After a few seconds of silence, we're sure it's gone.

"What did you do?" Yoshizawa suddenly asks me, again, the second time these past few days, "How do you even _know_ about all of this?"

I glare in Yoshizawa and Sakamoto's direction, but not at _them_. I glare at the green-eyed corpse standing behind them, with hollow eyes and pale skin and open wrists.

I only say, "Guess," before picking up my bag and heading out of the alleyway.

Sakamoto grabs my arm, "Hold _on_ for a sec—"

"Don't touch me, you—"

"Please help us! I know we can do this! We can stop him here and now and we won't _have_ to go back into his Palace, but we need your help!"

"Did you hear a fucking word I just said?"

" There's gonna be a sports rally tomorrow! We can go to the people under Kamoshida, talk to them about the abuse!  We can investigate and we dig up dirt! With a Palace as effed up as his is, he's bound to have let _something_ slip!"

"And if nothing has?"

"We're bound to find something—"

"And what if we don't? Should we just let him be?"

" _I DON'T KNOW_! But I'm not gonna cross that line without knowing I tried everything I could!"

I growl at him, at them both, "I'll help you. I'll help you find the victims and see if they can spill their guts, as unlikely as it'll ever be. But you're gonna cross that line. And you're gonna cross that line knowing that literally everything you tried to do otherwise was a waste of goddamn time. By then, you'll be wishing you'd just finished it while you had the chance."

Neither Sakamoto nor Yoshizawa are able to say a thing as I leave them behind.

* * *

She follows me. I can feel her staring.

Between the flashbacks and the freaking out and the getting the shit kicked out of me, I hadn't paid much attention to current goings-on in Shujin. So before heading back home, I pry a flier off a bulletin board and read it as I board the trains.

Recommended by Kamoshida. Commemoration of the volleyball team's successes in the field. Lasts from after lunch till the end of the day. Meaning no classes in the afternoon, meaning time to interrogate people, meaning time for us three to waste trying to convince people to confess.

Sure enough Kamoshida's a big enough name such that he's the guy who wrote the sports section on Shujin's website. Included on the volleyball subsection are a set of notable names and faces who've made it somewhat big on both the male and female teams. Will have to look into them when tomorrow hits.

Should've gotten their numbers. But what can you do?

"How was school?" Maruki asks, as I enter through the doorway.

"Fine," is all I tell him. "Not hungry."

"Not hungry--?"

I slam shut the door to my room right in his face and I turn to my bed and I see her.

Her green eyes are wide and alive, and she's smiling at me, the edges of her mouth perking up over the red scarf she _still_ has around her neck. She's wearing an overcoat and some dark blue jeans and she's over me, hovering. The frays in her scarf brushing against the side of my hand.  The curls of her long hair waft over my fingers and the green of her eyes is filled with life, such that I've not seen out of them in ages.

And it hits me. In the months I've been without her, I've forgotten her voice. I've forgotten how she sounded. Whenever I remember her speaking to me, it's never her voice that I hear; it's the voice of the Harlot, the woman in her purple robes.

Even in our happiest moments, as brief as they were, I can only hear her speaking as if she were her Shadow.

.

.

.

* * *

**4 / 13 / 2016**

Before we know it, we're taken to the gym. We're all of us in red jackets and sweatpants, and we're watching people shuffle around and scream and shout and jump and run. Not knowing a single thing.

There's two teams. Volleyball. One's full of students on the right, the other's got a teacher in their midst. The crowd's cheering as the ball's being tossed around the court with abandon. The aforementioned teacher is the ruler of the castle himself, and even I can tell that the smile he has on his face is one made of plastic. But the crowds cheer him on all the same. _Pride_ of the school.

Kamoshida is the most excited, seemingly. He jumps around like the world's his playground, and it pretty much is. To him, it all is. The people are his servants, the teachers are those who let him do as he pleases. The ball is his weapon, and when it's in his court he dominates. He returns it every time it comes, never once letting up on the offensive. He's not a young man. But he's a strong one. And that's why he's the King.

Then I hear a _smack_.

Someone's on the ground. Volleyball's bouncing plainly on the ground. Everyone, even the silent ones, lurch forward in surprise. Kamoshida's already there, calling for a nurse. For someone to tend to this poor young man. He's trying to salvage the situation he so obviously caused on purpose, the egotistical mongoloid. And judging by how the crowd so easily dismisses it as a mistake, it works.

The meek, blue-haired young boy is taken out of the gym and the world continues cheering the king. He's smiling, sweating, grinning at the masses. And I'm watching it all happen, waiting for my chance.

When they allow for a break, we three convene near some vending machines around Shujin's courtyard.

Ryuji kicks some soda out from its box before handing it to us, "Asshole planned that, God. Like he _knows_ he'll get away with it, smug piece o' shit..."

"Stay focused," Yoshizawa says. "We've got limited time to act, here."

"I know, but...shit, he's acting like a king here, too. Actin' all _concerned_ for Mishima, even after throwin' a volleyball right in his face. Makes me wanna puke."

"Where are we searching?" I ask him.

"Guys most likely to talk are the ones I knew were just as pissed at him as I was, way back when. One of 'em's in Class D."

"My class?"

"Yeah. Name's Matsumoto. Knew him back in track. Switched over to volleyball once it ended. Showed some skill at it."

"Where should I look?" asks Yoshizawa.

"There were some first-years in the shuffle. I think one of 'em was named Kurosawa? See if you can talk to him."

"Kurosawa...yes. That name sounds familiar, I think I've seen him every now and again. He looks so sad, when people try talking to him..."

"Goddamn. Okay. I'll go after a third-year. Name's Nishiki. We were kinda close, back then. Dunno how he'd see me, now, though..."

"We good to go?"

"Yeah. Yeah we are," says Sakamoto.

"Let's do our best!" exclaims Yoshizawa, fist closed.

I get my phone out, "Numbers."

"Oh, right!"

Once all that's done,  we all split up.

* * *

Obviously Sakamoto isn't gonna get very far.

Way I see it he's gonna muscle in on other people's territory so blatantly that he's only going to make those he's planning to interrogate defensive. Obviously, there are victims to question and people to talk to. Even I have managed to spot at least a few people from the volleyball team sporting some nasty bruises and wrappings over their faces. But the thing is, with those people, is that they've come so far. Perhaps even too far.

They've endured so much already. Being under Kamoshida's wing has some benefits. He's participated in the Olympics. What kind of athlete would you be to pass up a chance to serve under an Olympian? Sakamoto would be the answer to that, and nobody likes to be like him. So they take the pain and deny it.

Yoshizawa'll definitely fare a little better, but she's new meat. They'll probably blow her off with cliches, _You don't understand. You're a new student. You don't know what it takes, how things work here_. And so on.

On the sports team section of Shujin's website, they contain pictures of MVPs, all their accomplishments, and none of their failures. Night before today, I decided to look up some of them. One of them caught my eye; a pretty sort of girl. Plain, yet not unattractive. Ponytail, brown eyes, small sort of demure smile.

And when I saw her earlier today, what with the dark spots on her head and the eyes that looked like mine, when I saw her finishing up her time during the rally and huddling over to the lockers, I just knew she and Kamoshida had some sort of thing to do with each other.

It takes me a while, but I see her and I stop in my tracks. I see her now. Standing at a set of glass doors. Doing nothing but staring ahead. And I walk. She sees me after a few moments. She blinks.

"What...?" The girl is wearing a red sweatjacket and sweatpants. Her voice is weak, and her eyes are somewhat strained. "Oh. I'm in the way, aren't I...? Sorry..."

"Are you hurt?"

She doesn't say anything for a moment, just grabbing her arm as she gets all uncomfortable. "Um...well..." My shoulders sag as I'm reminded of someone. She stares at me with her dull eyes, "Hm...you don't look familiar. Could you...be that transfer student from Class D...?"

If she doesn't want to talk to me, I'll have to find another lead. I'm sure there's other girls Kamoshida's victimized. "Yeah. I am."

"Um, this might not be any of my business...," she says. "But...don't let the rumors get to you, okay?"

At this, I narrow my eyes at her, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I've helped with a similar situation before...," then her eyes close the way they'd close when you're in pain, "my best friend's often misunderstood too, all because of her looks... Ah, s-sorry, I didn't mean to drag on like that."

I breathe a little.  "Can we talk? It'll only be for a bit."

She blinks, "May I ask what about...?"

I realize too late this is gonna be harder than I thought.

* * *

Bench in the courtyard. Both of us, sitting down; she's drinking a bottle of water I bought her.

"Your name is Shiho Suzui, correct?" I ask her.

She nods, "How did you know...?"

"Website. You're on the volleyball team, under Suguru Kamoshida."

She flinches at the mention of his name, but quickly recovers: "Yes..."

"I'm sorry to ask you what I'm about to ask you so suddenly. But it's very important that you answer. If this conversation gets too much, you can tell me and we can drop it then and there."

She blinks. "What do you want to know...?"

"Is Suguru Kamoshida abusing people in the volleyball team?"

She freezes up for a moment. She opens her mouth, obviously jolted and trying to cough up a reply, probably a lie. Then she reclines in her seat, holding herself. She says this next, and she says it so quietly I barely even hear her: "Why are you even...?"

"If he is...I can't just let him go on the way he is."

She looks at me warily. "How did you know?" she asks then.

"People coming from the gym in bandages. It's obvious, once you really get a look."

"Why are you trying to stop it? Y-you're a new student, why're you...?" then she stops herself, her voice turning monotonous. "It's none of your business..."

"Sorry to say, but it is," I reply. "Hoping to stop him peacefully."

"Stop him...," she mutters weakly. "You can't stop him."

I don't reply for a while. "And why is that?"

"Everyone knows. Teachers. Other students. I heard even other people's parents, they...," she shakes her head. "It's in the system. You can't stop it. Everyone just keeps their heads down, because they know not to cause trouble. How're you even planning on _stopping_ this? What can you do?"

"Get evidence. Gradually get people on my side. Convince them to talk. Starting with you."

"They won't talk. The only reason I'm even telling you this is because I know it won't take off. They've been faced with so much. They're not gonna give it all up now. Not even if you record their confessions."

I blink at her. Removing the phone from my pocket. "Now, how'd you know about this?"

"Thought popped in my head when you talked to me about getting evidence. Didn't think you actually... What're you even doing this for?"

"I hate him. And I hate people like him.

She chuckles a little, "I suppose that's as good a reason as any."

"I'm doing this to make sure he gets put behind bars without much issue."

"You can't avoid that," she replies. "He made it big before coming here. You putting him behind bars'll cause panic for the school. Even if you expose everything he's hiding—" she shudders again, suddenly grasping her upper arms, "—you won't...you won't change anything..."

My eyes widen at her. "Did...did he...?"

She doesn't answer me. And that's the only answer I'll ever need.

"You won't change anything, not like this. Nobody'll help you," she mutters, trying to hold back something crawling up her throat. "Nobody's going to help you..."

"What's going on here?"

She and I turn. Girl with pigtails. Foreign. Platinum-blonde. Scowling at me. "Shiho...?"

"A-Ann," she stammers out.

This _Ann_ girl pulls Suzui aside, glaring at me. She quickly turns to Suzui, asks her, "Are you okay? What happened, why're you crying?" Suzui puts her hands to her cheeks and looks shocked. Ann turns to me, "What did you _do_?"

"I was just asking her questions."

"Don't play dumb with me!" she grunts. "If you hurt her, I'll—!"

"A-Ann!" Suzui cries out, clutching her friend's arm. "P-please...he didn't do anything...!"

Takamaki immediately stops. She turns to Suzui, looks at her, and immediately calms herself. But she turns back to me, glares, and her face becomes unlike a person's. She holds Suzui's hand then, pulling her away from me as the bell rings and we have to return to our tasks as students. She leaves me as I stand there, nowhere near my intended goal. Not even a single step closer to what I wish to accomplish.

Someone with green eyes is watching over me. Before she can even say a word, I brush past her and focus myself on deciding just _what_ I could do next, with the information I've been given.

* * *

An hour left before everyone heads home.

When Sakamoto or Yoshizawa don't appear for ten minutes, I go to find them. When I do, they're stuck in the middle of a conversation with someone else. The conversation isn't going very well.

"...what are you planning to do to Mr. Kamoshida?"

Ann Takamaki, again.

I've heard the rumors. About Kamoshida, about Takamaki, about his dealings with _girls_. The boys snigger. The girls _say_ they brush the rumors off, but the stinkeye they often give to Takamaki betrays them. Takamaki and Kamoshida are rather close, but she's repulsed by him and he either doesn't know or doesn't care. Something Sakamoto of course hasn't picked up on.

"I see, I getcha," Sakamoto says then. "Of course you'd ask that. You're all buddy-buddy with him, after all."

"This has nothing to do with you, Sakamoto!"

"If ya found out what he's been doing behind your back, you'd dump 'im right away."

At that point, Takamaki's eyes widen. "Behind my back...?"

Sakamoto doesn't answer her with anything else than, "You wouldn't get it..."

Takamaki grunts then, after a long period of silence, "People are talking about you. I was just trying to warn you, that's all. You wanna be a jerk about it, then fine. I don't care."

She leaves in a huff, not even registering my presence as he brushes past me. Sakamoto just watches her leave, as he doesn't know what else he can say or do to her.

He grunts out, "Why's she gotta be so aggressive all the time...?"

"You could be a little less rough around the edges, yourself, senpai," Yoshizawa cuts in. "We could have gotten information out of her."

"She doesn't know a thing about Kamoshida's skeevier stuff...," he groans, rubbing the back of his head. "'Sides, she's prolly willing to defend him. His reputation goes down the toilet, so does hers. Even more than it already has..."

I say as I approach them both, "She hates his guts."

"You sure?"

"Saw her speaking with him in the hallway once. She couldn't _stand_ being near him."

He hangs his head low. "Damn. Okay. Shit. I messed up."

"How do you know of her, anyway?" Yoshizawa asks then. "You two seemed...familiar with each other, at least."

He shakes his head, "We just both went to the same middle school. Anyways, about actual important stuff...I got nothin' on my end. No luck finding anything about Kamoshida from any o' the students under 'im. You got nothing, either?"

"Nobody was willing to tell me anything, either," Yoshizawa replies. "They said a new student wouldn't understand. Kurosawa even pointed me to other people he knew...no luck. What about you, senpai?"

"Ditto," I tell them, though I've only spoken to one person.

Sakamoto growls and scratches his head, "One last lead on my mind..."

"Who?"

"Yuuki Mishima," is his reply. "I always see the guy with bruises on 'im.  But Kamoshida uses him often, as a lackey. Telling other students what is and isn't going to happen. Events, changes in the curriculum. Whenever he needs to talk to someone for any reason, he has Mishima tell them to go to the faculty office. Mishima puts up with it...like everyone else does."

Fine then, "Let's go find 'im before he leaves."

* * *

After school, we three see this Mishima at the entrance gates, walking out with his bag in his hand. He's got bandages over his face and his arm, and he looks like every single step he takes breaks something inside him. Sakamoto's the first to talk to him, and of course when he does it he gets all up in his face. "Hey, got a second?"

Damn, he must've done this with everyone.

"Sakamoto...?" Mishima mutters, then seeing me. "A-and Hikawa-san, too...!? What--?"

We see the dark wrinkles in his eyes, the flecks of purple and red settling on his cheeks. His voice is weak and it takes him a lot of effort just to talk, and we can even see the welt on his cheek from when Kamoshida knocked him out cold with a volleyball to his face. 

"Sorry for keeping you, senpai, but we'd just like a word," Yoshizawa says to him.

Of course, Sakamoto cuts in again. "Kamoshida's been _coaching_ you, right? You sure it's not just physical abuse?"

"C-certainly not!"

We see it plain in his eyes. And on his face, on his arm, and they'd probably see it all over his body if he was naked right then and there.

Sakamoto's gruff again, "What're you talking all polite for? We saw him spike you today, right in the face."

"That was just...," he whimpers then, his voice cracking _just_ a little, "because I wasn't good at the sport..."

"That doesn't explain all the other bruises you got," Sakamoto says, sighing in something like concern.

Mishima glares at him then. "They're from practice!" he shouts quickly.

This isn't getting us anywhere. This isn't doing anything. Unless something changes the game, we're gonna be stuck with nothing for the thousandth time today.

But then the game changes.

"What's going on here?" Kamoshida steps, suddenly, as if he'd poofed in from the ether. He then turns to Mishima, "Mishima, isn't it time for practice?"

Mishima's face crinkles as he replies, "I-I'm not feeling well today..."

Kamoshida just shakes his head. "Maybe you're better off quitting, then. You're never gonna improve that crappy form, unless you show up to practice."

"Didn't you hear?" grunts Sakamoto then, getting up into Kamoshida's face now. "He ain't feeling well."

"Well, Mishima?" Kamoshida just _says_ , like Sakamoto's not even there, "You coming to practice or not?"

Mishima just caves, then and there. "I'll go..."

Kamoshida nods that slimy nod, and he turns to Sakamoto then, "Any more trouble, you'll be gone from this school for good." Sakamoto just curses then, as Kamoshida turns to me, "Same goes for you. Didn't the principal tell you to keep in line?"

He's smirking and he's laughing and chuckling, trying to pass it off and look like a rational human being. Which makes me less rational.

"You have an amazing spike."

They look at me like I've got a deathwish.

"Yoshizawa. I thought we had a careful discussion about hanging around delinquents. They may seem nice to _you_ , but make no mistake. They're little monsters and they'll drag you straight down with 'em."  She doesn't respond, doesn't even _emote_ at that, and Kamoshida just shakes his head then, "Just don't get in the way of my practice. All these unsettling rumors are making the students anxious, after all."

"That was your own fault," mutters Sakamoto.

"This won't get us anywhere. Let's go, Mishima." He turns his back on the three of them, and then tells the three of them, "Shujin Academy is a place where those with aspirations come to learn. Unworthy students like yourselves have no right to be here. Get with the goddamn program or else."

And all Mishima can say is, "Yes, sir."

Kamoshida then leaves, Sakamoto muttering, "He's gonna pay for this..."

But Mishima says, "There's no point. Proving that he's physically abusing us...is meaningless. Everybody knows. The principal, our parents...they all know. They all keep quiet."

"This has gotta be a joke...!" is all Sakamoto can say. He's horrified, and so's Yoshizawa. But Mishima keeps talking.

"Don't be a pain. You don't understand what I'm going through. You should know, of all people, that nothing you'll do is gonna help."

He then leaves us three there. And all at once, neither Sakamoto nor Yoshizawa know what to say. 

"What'd I tell you?" I brush past them both and get back to my classroom, retrieving my things.

* * *

.

.

.

** 4 / 15 / 2016 **

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa haven't spoken to me since the thirteenth. I intend to confront them about the matter later in the day. But my intentions stop meaning much right before the last class of first period.

When it happens, I'm having a class.

I think of Shiho Suzui. Suffering, weeping in silence and in pain. Her supposed friend not even knowing what's going on behind the scenes. Ann Takamaki is sitting right in front of me, apathetically staring out the window. She's agitated with me but she doesn't show it. If she only knew. If they all only knew. If it's brought to everyone's attention, shouted out from the top of the world, they'd all lash out. Because nobody wants to say they knowingly supported an ephebophile.

But I'm thinking of things that shouldn't matter. Not this very moment. I should be looking out the window. I should be paying attention to my surroundings. I don't know how my directionless thinking will cost me. Green eyes are looking at me still, but every time I turn away from them they flash with specks of yellow. I shouldn't be keeping my attention on them. I shouldn't be so indulgent in myself. And because of my unrelenting self-pity, I am too late.

It happens quickly, too quickly to make sense. Someone large and lumbering and annoyed at all of us is writing on a chalkboard. But then someone rises up from out of their seat and gawks. He's talking about someone, standing up on a rooftop. Says _she's gonna jump_ , that's what makes all of us check.

I remember my conversation with a girl. I turn to the rooftop and I see her. She's standing there. That girl I spoke to days ago. Ponytail and all. She's standing now. Right behind the gated fence of the rooftop of the school. Everyone soon gets up out of their seats and they just watch because they have to. They watch because they _need_ to see this. They can't do anything else but watch, even as she starts the climb up the fence.

They stare. They gawk. The clamoring begins, _Is she gonna jump!? Don't tell me she'll jump! Somebody do something!_ Everyone _says these things_ but nobody's doing anything, the teacher's trying to corral everyone back in the classroom, but even he's taken aback.

I'm watching it happen.

I'm watching it happen.

What am I doing here?

My legs catch fire as I run faster, my eyes burn in the wind as I force myself forward. Before I know it I'm out of the building, having squeezed my way through people and students all just _watching_. Before I know it I'm running up the stairs and I see that the people are still just _watching_. Before I know it her hands are in mine and I'm hunched over the fence and I'm trying to pull her up.

I managed to get to her just as she got herself over the fence.

There's a girl in my hands. Screaming, shocked, terrified. She's wriggling and she's thrashing about, but I won't let her go. My grip is tight around her wrists. She's hanging off the edge of a school building, and she's telling me _pleading_ with me to let her go, using her weight to try and swing herself out of my grip.

But I won't let her go because I can't, because if I do I won't be able to live with myself, because _she_ 's watching me from behind, I feel _her_ green eyes on the back of my head, I feel the weight of _her_ gaze pressing down on me and I know that if I ever let what could happen here _happen_ then I'll burn forever. She's crying now, she's screaming and she's bawling, my body's bent in half, my upper body's hanging off the edge and I will not ever let go.

The people from the windows keep watching, even as I manage to muster up the strength to pull myself and her over the fence. She's still thrashing about, screaming, begging me to let her go, and I keep pulling her away. I keep pulling her, I can't let her go. She's pleading with me. Pleading. My grip just gets tighter, I tell her to _shut up_ to _stop it_ to _calm down_ but she won't listen.

And because she doesn't listen, because the creature I've sold my soul to for some reason won't give me the strength to _pull a girl up from the edge of a building_ , the sound she makes when she falls isn't a loud _thud_. It's more a soft _crash_.

Of course what comes next is, two people enter through the rooftop door and see me. But I don't see them.

I only see a girl with green eyes standing behind them. She is melancholy, her eyes dull and her brow furrowed. She's looking at me in a way I can't describe; I don't know if she hates me, pities me, or is disappointed in me.

It is at this point I realize that Sakamoto's tapping my shoulder, his voice shaky and raised as he asks me what just happened. I don't know how to answer him, he's grabbing me by my shoulders and screaming things but all I see is _her_. Not Kana, Suzui. I keep on rewinding it in my blighted mind, it keeps on searing into my memory as I remember her eyes and her shouts and her tears. Is she dead? I wonder. Is she gone, like Masako and her mother?

I hear the crowds clamoring below, people swarming down at the very bottom of the world. Someone crying. A siren. Old men telling people they need to stay indoors, to reject the sane and rational response that they have, to want to see what kind of disaster that's happened. A girl with platinum blonde pigtails, crying to her friend, staying at her side as she lies there motionlessly.

Kana's standing behind Sakamoto and Yoshizawa, and her green eyes are boring deep into my red ones. I'm looking at her sadly and I don't care who's watching. I don't care about anything else. She's not dead, she'll never be dead, not so long as I remember her and remember what I did.

Through the netted fence I see a boy with welts on his face flee the scene, cringing in terror.

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa immediately take off. Takes me some time to follow after them.

* * *

"She _jumped and tried to kill herself_!" I hear Sakamoto shout, as I enter the boys' locker room.

Mishima's cowering as the two encroach upon him, Yoshizawa telling him, "We won't tell anyone, we promise. We just want to know what happened."

"L-leave me alone...!" he cries, on the verge of tears as he runs his hands through his hair.

I step in suddenly, in the middle of the three, and I grab his hand.

_ KkRK _

"--aaaAAGGHH!"

Pinky finger's bent and broken in a way such that its nail touches the knuckle.

"What the hell!?"

" _Senpai_!"

"Got nine other fingers," I growl at Mishima. "Stop wasting my time."

"H-he'll _kill_ me...!"

"No, he won't."

_ KkrK _

"AAAAGHHH!!!"

Yoshizawa grabs my arm, "Stop, please _just stop_ \--!"

"Talk before I do."

I merely _touch_ his ring finger and he squeals, " _She was called out by Mr. Kamoshida_!"

Sakamoto's half livid, half horrified. "What...?"

"He'd call somebody up every now and again, to the teacher's room, whenever he'd get pissed off or sometimes for no reason at all," Mishima mutters, clutching his hand and weeping, "He-he'd call someone up to the office and just _hit them_! He just called Suzui outta the blue last Saturday, and she-she didn't even _do_ anything, but he was pissed, he was fuming...! He, he was so angry and I...I...he made me call her to _come to meet him and I..._!"

Realization dawns in Sakamoto and Yoshizawa's eyes, and the former looks like he wants to tear the whole goddamn school apart.

"That _son of a bitch_...!"

And he runs off, into the halls.

"Senpai, wait!"

Yoshizawa runs after him.

Before I leave, I witness Mishima crumple into himself, clutching his hand and whimpering and bitching and moaning, and I just tell him: "Coward."

* * *

When Sakamoto inevitably confronts Kamoshida, it goes about as well as I expected it would.

"What did you do to her!?"

PE faculty office. He's screaming, his eyes are bloodshot, and he's hunched over like an animal. Kamoshida's just sitting in a folding chair, staring at his laptop, not even bothering to register any of the students confronting him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kamoshida shrugs, waving his hand about and feigning ignorance.

"Don't play dumb with me!" Sakamoto exclaims then, kicking down another folding chair in the vicinity.

Kamoshida then turns to him, glaring now, "That is _enough_!"

"What you did, it wasn't coaching...!" Yoshizawa growls.

Kamoshida's voice turns guttural as he sneers, "What did you say?"

"You...you ordered Mishima to call Suzui here...!" she shouts, "You drove her to jump off the top of that building!"

"You're going on and on about things you have no proof of...," mutters Kamoshida, finally getting up off his seat to face the three castigating him.

He's a volleyball coach. Of course he's great at deflection.

"Even if it is exactly as you imagine it to be, hypothetically speaking...in the end, what can you do about it?" He leans in, grinning in Sakamoto's face, "We just got a call from the hospital. Suzui's in a coma, and her chances of recovery are slim. How would someone like that make a statement, I wonder...?"  Kamoshida puts a hand to his head, feigning sorrow, "Poor girl. There's little chance of her recovering, I hear..."

Sakamoto's hasty again. He's angry. He's unafraid. The adrenaline makes him want to do things, things that'd send him to jail. He glances at the folding chair he kicked down just a second ago. His fist opens.

"This again...?" Kamoshida murmurs, spotting Sakamoto's glance. "Are we gonna have to resort to another case of _self-defense_?"

"Shut up," grunts Sakamoto simply. "Just _shut up_...!"

"Or what? You'll make me?" Kamoshida laughs.

He can't take it anymore. He leans down, grabs the folding chair, lifts it like he's a wrestler in a No-DQ match and is about to just _go to town_ on Kamoshida, Kamoshida who's still smiling because he's seen a million different avenues where the chair could come for him and knows every which way to counter the hits, knows that in the end none of this will matter, that in the end Sakamoto will just be _nothing like always._

But then I grab his hand.

"Wh-why're you...!?"

"Don't let him get to you."

"But still...!"

"Good work, Hikawa. That almost makes up for our little run-in a while ago...," he mutters, grinning. He turns to Ryuji then, closing his eyes and folding his arms. "No need to hold back, though. Why not attack me? Oh, but you _can't_. Of course you can't."

"No. We can."

We all turn to Yoshizawa. She's glaring at him now, her brown eyes turning red in the light of the room.

"We can do something to you that undoes everything you've ever built for yourself up to this point."

Now _that_ gets Kamoshida's attention. He shifts Sakamoto aside, marching close to here, so close she can smell his breath, smell the sweat on him. "You're walking a tightrope here, Yoshizawa. It's almost respectable, really. Standing up for your fellow students...it's sad that you won't see reason. Siding with Ryuji Sakamoto...I thought you, out of these three, would've been the sensible one."

"It's all par for the course for you," she says simply.

"What are you talking about?"

She's shaking like a child but speaking like a soldier. "You can't take criticism, so you throw your opposition to the side. Slap around a few students, because you can make them out to be delinquents anyway. Can't impress anyone your age with being a gym teacher, so you get girls too young and too scared to refuse. You haven't done anything meaningful, not as a teacher, and _not_ even as an athlete. Your name comes up so little in Olympics retrospectives it's hilarious."

"What?"

"What next, you'll kick me and Sakamoto-senpai and Hikawa-senpai and everyone else who tells you right to your face how much of a failure you are? You'll stand there in the gym, watching over all those students who you _think_ admire you when really they make fun of you as much as they would any other teacher? You'll take it and you'll watch, and you'll keep going after more girls who're barely even _legal_? Excuse me, but quite frankly, it's all so embarrassing."

"You think I need to _impress_ you?"

"I'll save you the trouble," I interject then, stepping between him and Yoshizawa. "Hand me the forms. I'll expel myself right here and now, with my own pen."

"You smug little arrogant fucking prick _—"_ he grabs me by the neck, pulling me closer and growling now, " _—_ you think I'm really doing all of this because I need to _impress anybody_!?"

He then sees my eyes, stops himself, and doesn't say anything for a long time.

Then he sits back down in his seat.  "Everyone present right now will be expelled. I'm reporting you all at the next board meeting."

"You can't make a decision like that!" Yoshizawa exclaims.

"Who cares what you have to say?" bitterly responds Kamoshida. "You all come into my office, threaten me, call me a monster on things you've got no proof I've even done. You're just as guilty as they are, Yoshizawa. If only by association.  To think you didn't even know why I kept someone as talentless as Mishima on my team. You act like he's a victim, but he leaked Hikawa's baggage to the school."

"What baggage?" says Sakamoto.

"Oh, you never heard?" he smiles. "You've been working with him all this time, and you didn't even know? He's got a criminal record. Assault with a deadly weapon. Apparently the guy he attacked is in his own little coma."

Sakamoto turns to me like he doesn't even know what I _am_ anymore.

"You'll eat your words soon enough," I tell him.

"Sure, sure," he responds, amused. "You sound like children. I don't understand what you're thinking, but you're free to give it a try. All you can do is wait for your disposal. Now, are we finished here? You're all expelled. You're done for. Your futures are mine to take. Now get out of my sight."

I see something yellow and black in my peripheral vision. I see a black cat standing there, on one of the desks in the office. Staring at us. Tilting its head and letting out a soft mewl. It lets out a smile, a familiar one, and in that smile I get thrown all the way back to December, deciding to do whatever it took to save the person I loved.


	16. Salome, the Temptress of Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"Blood for blood. If need be, his head must be served on a platter.  
>  Nothing can be solved by restraining yourself." **

**4 / 15 / 2016**

Courtyard, underneath a canopy, next to some vending machines.

"You have a criminal record...?" asks Sakamoto.

"My second day here," Yoshizawa began, "Kamoshida and Principal Kobayakawa spoke to me about you."

"They did?"

"They said you were trouble, and not to associate with either you or Sakamoto-senpai. They told me you had a criminal record...but they didn't tell me what for."

"Must've thought the word _criminal_ would've been enough to deter you. And yet you still wanted my help?"

"To be fair, a lot of rumors circulated throughout the school. Didn't know which was true from false. They said you dealt drugs, killed someone, stabbed a guy, shot a guy, and for some reason word got round you were also into elephant tusk trafficking."

"As if I'd nothing better to do," I shake my head.

"You assaulted somebody?" Sakamoto cries out. "With a deadly weapon? And he's in a _coma_?"

Takes me a while to face either of them. When I do, I make my eyes firm. "Yes, I did. Yes, he is."

"Why...?"

"I wanted to protect somebody. I went too far. That's all I'd like to say about it."

"You for real...?"

"I believe you," says Yoshizawa. "You don't peg me as someone who'd do something like that without a good reason."

" _Reasons_ don't matter, I still did it."

"Y'didn't think to tell us this beforehand...?"

"Well, we're not exactly close. And besides, I thought you'd have at least heard the rumors."

"Nobody said anything about this around me..."

"Look, we can either spend the next few days deliberating on how much of a criminal I am, or we can get down to brass tacks and look for ways to get to Kamoshida. Now we have a time limit."

"Wait, _wait_ \--"

"What?"

"You've done this before. You--this whole _changing hearts_ thing, right? You said you and Morgana had a mission and it went _wrong_...then...did _that_ have something to do with your assault case?"

"That depends on _something_." We hear the cat's voice, and it leaps from seemingly out of nowhere to atop the vending machines. "You gonna tell them? Best to get everyone on the same page, no?"

I grab it by the scruff of its neck, "Shut the hell up, or I'm gonna swing you by the tail into a tree."

"They deserve to know. They're gonna be working with you."

I throw the cat behind me, causing Yoshizawa to wince. "Full disclosure. I knew someone two years ago. She and her mother were being harassed in the street by some drunk asshole. I intervened and things escalated. I beat that man to near death and spent a year in juvie. Afterwards her mother died, and she fell into a deep depression, and I tried to save her by changing her heart. It didn't work."

"What do you mean, _it didn't work_?"

"It. Didn't. Work."

Yoshizawa purses her lips, "I'm so sorry..."

"I don't need your pity. I need you to know that the same thing might very well happen to Kamoshida. And that if we go into his Palace to steal his Treasure, that'll be on _all of us_. Are you willing to put that on your conscience?"

Sakamoto's eyes fume, "That asshole needs to get what's comin' to him."

"You didn't answer my question. If he _dies_ , or suffers a mental shutdown, are either you willing to accept the fact you both helped make that happen?"

"That's why you didn't want us involved in this," Yoshizawa says. "You knew about all this and what it meant, and you tried to push us away...?"

"The police can't help. No evidence. The students _won't_ help, and neither will the teachers. So it's up to us three. Either we steal the Treasure and he _maybe_ dies. Or we don't, and more girls like Shiho Suzui will jump from the top of the school building. Your choice."

It takes them a moment for them both to respond. Yoshizawa's more sad and horrified than anything else; Sakamoto's expression is nigh-indescernible. Of course, the latter's the first to speak up.

"I don't care. I don't care what happens to him. Let him jump off a cliff. Don't matter. None of it does. He deserves everything coming his way."

"What about you?" I turn to Yoshizawa.

Her hands shake. Then, they ball up into fists. "I have a twin sister."

"A sister?"

"She got into a car accident a few months ago. She'll be holed up in the hospital for the whole school year. We were supposed to share a grade, share the same class. We're...we're honor students. Gymnasts. She and I were gonna train together in the school gym. And we would've done it under Kamoshida's supervision. If she had been here, she'd have been here _with him_ , looming over her and watching her every move. That's why I was so intent on putting a stop to him. I couldn't imagine my sister going to this school and having to deal with somebody like him. I still don't. As much as I hate the idea of him dying...I don't think there's any other option left than to steal whatever Treasure's inside his Palace."

"Then it's settled," the cat smiles visibly.

"By the way...," Sakamoto says, clearing his throat, "you've done this before...is getting rid of a Palace hard?"

"Extremely."

"Goddammit--"

"Is it true you're getting expelled...?"

That semi-familiar voice makes everyone stir. They turn, and they see a woman with platinum-blonde pigtails looking at them sadly.

"Everyone's talking about it," Ann Takamaki continues, her eyes kept on Sakamoto most of all.

"At it again, huh...?" then he turns to face Takamaki head-on, deciding to be abrasive once more. "You came all the way here just to tell us that?"

"You're gonna deal with Kamoshida," she says pointedly, causing Sakamoto's cold exterior to falter. "It's more than obvious. Everyone knows you two and the new honor student have been dogging him. Lemme in on this, too. I can't just stand back, not after what happened to Shiho."

"This has nothing to do with you...," mutters Sakamoto, cold and heartless all over again. "Don't butt in."

"Senpai--"

"Of course it does, you asshole, _Shiho's my best friend_!" Takamaki exclaims, marching over to Sakamoto, who rears backwards from seeing the veins in her eyes. Takamaki seethes for a moment, trying to breathe and regain herself. She inhales deeply then, caling herself down, before turning to me and coming clean. "You've heard the rumors. About me. About Kamoshida. All three of you. I know it."

I nod simply, keeping my eyes on Takamaki all the while.

Takamaki asks, looking over her shoulder, trying to see if anyone else is in the vicinity, "Can we sit down for a sec?"

I turn to the cat, then to Sakamoto, then to Yoshizawa. Then back to Takamaki. Yoshizawa gestures to a nearby bench and says, "Of course."

* * *

Yoshizawa and Takamaki are now sitting on said bench, Sakamoto cross-legged on a patch of grass. The cat at his side. I'm standing behind Sakamoto, hands in my pockets.

Takamaki leans forward in her seat, sighing. "Started in the eighth grade," she said. "At first it was just _looks_. He'd eye me weirdly, and I'd never be able to really confront him about it 'cause he'd just give me the creeps. Ninth grade, he began talking more. Talking to me, to the other girls whenever we'd do PE...but he'd talk to me the most. I'd be nice, I'd be courteous. Because I was too young to know what any of it really meant, even when I felt uneasy."

Sakamoto can't help but cringe as he glares into the blades of grass at his shins, feeling worse than he'd ever had.

"Everyone says we're getting it on, but it's so not true," she says, sickened."I don't like him. I don't want to be anywhere near him. He would and still does creep me the hell out, but I'd try convincing myself I could endure. I just started justifying myself. _It's just advances, nothing more_. And I'd never be convinced, but I felt I had to convince myself. Shiho was on the volleyball team, and...I didn't know what he'd do to her if I didn't get on his good side. So I endured. The rumors, the advances, everything. I just endured, and I tried to tell myself none of it'd matter in the end. If I could just keep my head down for the rest of my school days, nothing'd happen. But I was...more wrong than I ever thought I could be."

"Takamaki..."

"One day, he called me," she continues. "A day ago. I avoided giving him my number for the longest time. He told me to go to his place, after school. I knew exactly what he wanted, and when I turned him down, he said he'd take Shiho off as a regular on the team. I've been kissing up to him, keeping all this up for her sake, been telling myself that it'll all be okay if it's for her, but it's not, it's not, and it never will be ever again.  It's all the same, every day. Same looks, same insults, same everything. It doesn't matter what happens. Shiho was all I had left in this sorry excuse of a school. So I will help you, in whatever you're plann ing against Kamoshida. If it helps end his career, end his _life_ , end _him_ , I'll help. I'll do anything, I don't care. I'm sick of the rumors, I'm sick of Kamoshida's face, I'm sick of never being able to do anything for anyone, and I'm sick of always putting my face against the ground. You can't take me away from this."

Sakamoto's the first to speak up, "I can't imagine what you must've felt under him, but...I...I dunno if that'd be a good idea."

"I think she could help us a lot," says Yoshizawa.

"So you think she wouldn't be able to take it?" I chuckle at him.

"It's not like that! It's dangerous as hell, I don't wanna risk her life--!"

"But you're risking yours," she cuts in. "All three of you."

"I think it'd be great if she'd join," Morgana says. "Another helping hand'll always be useful."

Takamaki frowns then. "Wait, who else is here?"

"Wh-what?"

We three turn to the cat, who brings a paw to his mouth.

"Wait," Takamaki says then, "did the cat just talk?"

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa face her, Sakamoto being the first to vocalize, "Oh, man...!"

"It could talk the whole time...!?" exclaims Takamaki then, standing up from the bench.

"H-hold on, wait," Morgana says, lifting his paws upward at her, "I-I mean, this can all be explained if you could just calm down...!"

"And you three could _hear_ it?" Takamaki blurts out.

"You just had to open your big mouth," Sakamoto grunts, picking up the cat by the scruff of its neck.

"W-wait...!" cries Morgana then, "Whenever I talk while I'm around and about the school nobody pays attention! Everyone just says they hear meowing! Only you guys can understand me!"

"You're serious," replies Sakamoto.

"I wouldn't joke at a time like this! We're so close...!"

"W-wait, so only we can understand the cat!?" cries Takamaki. "What's even, what's going on!?"

It all clicks into my head right then and there. There is only one thing I, Yoshizawa, Sakamoto, and the cat all share; and it is something that we must have shared with Takamaki, as well.

"Check your phone," I say to Takamaki, pulling my own phone from my pocket.

"Wh-what for...?"

"For _this_ ," I show her the screen, and point to a large app that looks like a bloated red eye. "Is it in your phone?"

Takamaki clutches my phone and her jaw turns slack, "I've had this in my phone since the day Shiho...," and she clutches at her head, "I-I've tried to delete it several times, but it'd always come back. Why is it in _your_ phone? What's going on...?"

"She has a Persona...," says the cat.

"Are you certain?"

"I-if she doesn't, then she very well can have one...," Morgana looks like he doesn't know what to say, but then quickly recovers, "Anyone can...if they're willing to face themselves."

"What are you talking about?" Takamaki asks then.

"Let's bring her to the entrance of the Palace! Just the entrance!" Morgana encourages. "There, she'll decide whether or not she wants to go through with it."

"We can't bring her to a place like that...!" exclaims Sakamoto. "It's not...!"

Yoshizawa sighs, turning to Takamaki, "Listen to me. Takamaki-senpai. Do you really want this? We're going to bring you somewhere, and it'll all be extremely confusing and scary the first time. If this goes belly-up, your life'll be over. But if it works, we can stop Kamoshida, and end all of this. Are...you willing to make it happen?"

Takamaki for a moment looks like she doesn't know what to do, or what to say. Then she looks at her knees, and her eyes shine the way eyes would when a person would recall something unfathomably precious.

"I'll do anything."

Sakamoto's mouth gapes as he lets out a hard breath.  Yoshizawa breathes, closing her eyes.

I then hold out my hand to Takamaki, "Come with us."

* * *

"Lucky for us Kamoshida's lazy ass decided to cancel practice today," I grunt.

We're right outside the gymnasium.

"Why are we here?" asks Takamaki.

"Same," says Sakamoto.

"If Kamoshida views the school as a castle, he almost definitely views the gym as _something_. Probably help set us, in some fashion, close to the Treasure."

"Good strategy," says Yoshizawa.

Takamaki shakes her head, "Wait, hold on, what's going on here? What's this got to do with--?"

I pull my phone up, show her the screen with the **PALACE LOG.**

"Suguru Kamoshida. Shujin Academy. Castle."

Red and black fill the world.

By the time it's stopped, the gym's become an extension of the castle; a chapel so massive and so ornate that it'd put the Sistine to shame, with spires that nearly reach the skies, and gargoyles in the shape of young and buxom girls. Above the massive wooden doors is a large carving of Kamoshida's face, smiling widely, crookedly, madly.

"Course he would..."

"Dear God."

Knew it.

"Wh-what the hell is this...!?"

"This," Cat says to Takamaki, "is the world of Kamoshida's desires--"

"Oh my God, a _monster cat_!!!"

"How rude! I'm not even a cat."

"Calm down!" Sakamoto cries out. "You keep on screamin', the Shadows'll come and--"

"What are you all even wearing--!? _What's happening right now_!?"

Yoshizawa grabs her by the shoulders, "Takamaki-senpai. We'll explain everything, but before anything else. Please. Calm down."

She shakes and trembles and her eyes are wide, but she breathes deeply multiple times and manages out, "O-okay..."

* * *

"So he views the school as his _castle_...and the students as slaves."

"Yes."

"And there's a Treasure at the core of this world which is the basis for all this messed up shit."

"Yes."

"And if we steal the Treasure, then his desires will disappear, and he'll feel so much remorse that he'll just turn himself in."

"Or kill himself. But yeah."

Takamaki reiterates these things, keeping her eyes on the cathedral the whole time. "I could have done something."

Yoshizawa tells her, "No. You couldn't have."

"Shiho was suffering under him. I knew it all along. Whenever Kamoshida called her to practice, I could've been there. She'd barely tell me _anything_ about what was going on, but I knew well enough. _I'm putting up with Kamoshida's shit all for her sake_ , that's what I'd tell myself. But she was going through so much more than I ever did, and I just let it all happen."

"You had your own problems to deal with, too," Sakamoto tells her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Blamin' yourself can't possibly help you or Suzui now. Kamoshida had you both up against the wall."

She just stares at him like he doesn't even know what he's talking about. "Let's go in."

"Y-you sure?"

"I want to help you, however I can."

"There're monsters inside," cat says. "Lots of them. You could be killed or worse."

"I promise I won't slow you down."

"Not just that," Sakamoto tells her. "You're prolly gonna see another you in there."

"What?"

I tell her, "People who've made an impression on him, for better and for worse, have their own unique versions of themselves, inside the castle. Based around his perception of them, of course. Considering the fact he's after you, it's doubtful there _isn't_ a version of you inside that place."

She grits her teeth, "Is there a version of _Shiho_ in there, too...?"

"Hopefully not. That said. We haven't explored it deeply enough. Do you still want to go in?"

"Absolutely."

"Alright then. We'll form a circle around you."

"Still think this is a bad idea," Sakamoto says. "Look. I know I've been a shithead to you these past few days, but I dunno if you'll be able to handle what's--"

I tell him, " _You_ weren't able to handle it just a few days ago. Now you have a Persona."

" _Persona_?"

"It's different, I--"

"He beat you. Humiliated you. Made you a pariah. He had his way with her best friend, and would almost certainly do the same to her if given the chance. She has just as much a right to this, if not moreso, than you or any of us here."

He doesn't respond to that, and no one else does, either. But before we can enter, we see the cat's bobblehead pressed up so hard against the doorframe its face is flattened, and we hear some pretty loud _SNFF_ noises.

"Uh...what's wrong with him?"

I narrow my eyes. "Cat. What's happening?"

It pries its head off the door, half of its head now flat as a board. "Sensed something back there--" Its face _pops_ back into shape, its eyes dangling out their sockets again from the sudden motion, before the cat shoves them back in. "Something super important."

Everybody just winces at that.

"The Treasure?"

"Surprisingly, no. But it's kinda close to it, I guess you could say."

"Close to it?"

"Help me open these doors and I'll show you. I don't sense any Shadows inside, so we should have at least some time to steal the Will Seed!"

Will Seed? "Never told me about--"

"I'll tell you about 'em in a bit! But let's get in there!"

"I'm ready," says Takamaki.

I crack my neck, "Alright then."

* * *

We enter the cathedral and it's every bit as gaudy as you could imagine. Pillars rise higher than any contractor would be willing to pay for. Ceiling and walls have got paintings each done with the skill and precision and realism of Michelangelo, each loaded with hundreds of naked women, dancing and frolicking in the clouds; none of them bear faces, nor even colors in their hair. At the center of the ceiling lies _The Creation of Adam_ , featuring a muscle-bound Kamoshida in white robes, reaching out to yet another faceless girl with colorless hair.

At the very end of the hall lies an altar. At the center of it all stands a statue of Kamoshida that rises to the ceiling, nude and chiseled to the point of having Herculean musculature when the real one's got a little flab hanging under his arms. He's got that goofy crooked smile on his face and carries under his arm a volleyball, stretching out his other arm like he's a goddamn Nazi. At his sides are statues, again of girls, but these have faces. Dozens of girls, none of whom are our concern now.

What is our concern is the girl prostrating at the foot of Kamoshida's statue. Dressed in the white robes of a Catholic nun.

Suddenly, she turns to see us four.

"Ah! New visitors!"

She has black hair. Small, warm, dark eyes. She's smiling happily, a far cry from the girl whom I'd seen just a few days ago.

I turn to the cat, "You said there weren't any enemies."

"I said there weren't any _Shadows_! Didn't sense her!"

"You can't sense Manikins?"

"I can't sense Manikins when they're non-hostile!"

"Dammit."

"Oh my, please do refrain from using profanity here," the Manikin pleads, placing a hand to her chest. "This is a holy place."

Why the hell does this nun have a cleavage window.

"That sick fucking _bastard_...," Takamaki shakes her head.

"My name is Shiho Suzui," she says with a smile. "Very pleased to meet you all. Did you come here to bear witness to the Sugurine Chapel?"

"Fucking _hell_ \--"

Yoshizawa stops Takamaki then, "Y-yes, we did, actually! We've come from a faraway land, and have heard tremendous tales of the Great Kamoshida! W-we came here because we've heard it was a place where we could appreciate and stand in awe of his accomplishments!"

"How splendid! I simply must bring King Kamoshida here now! He would love to give you a tour of the Chapel--!"

Sakamoto freaks the hell out as Yoshizawa blurts, " _A-actually, we, er_...!"

I step in. "We know that King Kamoshida is a very diligent man who spends his every waking hour working for the betterment of those who live within this castle. We would hate to intrude. We are simply here to appreciate the glory that is the Sugurine Chapel; King Kamoshida's precious time is far too valuable to waste on strangers. Wouldn't you agree?"

"My, not at all! King Kamoshida loves visitors! He will drop everything he's doing if only to ensure that everyone from far and wide would know of his name! Why, I was but a humble street whore who knew nothing of him, and yet when I asked for his mercy he took me into his fold of Sisters!"

If looks could kill, Takamaki would cause a crater in this place three miles wide and seven miles deep. " _What_."

"In my former life, I had few friends," she says so sweetly she could give you diabetes. "But one. She is a wonderful girl. Lovely and beautiful and everything I ever wanted to be. Yet she drew the attention of the King, when I could not. And the stress would build up, so profoundly that I'd never be able to face myself. He would hurt me, he would bring me pain and wounds, all to reiterate the truth that deep down, my soul was _lonely_ without his guidance. Alone and afraid, there was nowhere I could go. Yet King Kamoshida found even in someone like me-- _me!_ \--something worthy of his love and adoration. I am embarrassed to admit it to his face, indeed I am, but I do genuinely hope to serve him as best as I could. I could never be at his side, not like Ann, but I could at the very least pleasure him in my own way."

"Stop, please," Takamaki begs, but she just keeps on talking.

She says dreamily. "He held me so closely and ran his lips along my neck so gently. He was firm and he was kind and he was everything a man ought to be. He was the best I will ever have; simply no other man could possibly compare--"

"Eff this."

Sakamoto brandishes a shotgun seemingly out of nowhere and points it directly at the Manikin's head, causing her to raise her arms. "Oh-oh _my_...!"

"What-- _what_!?"

"Senpai, when did you bring a gun!?"

"Collapsible. Hid its parts in my bag."

"Oh, good sir, please do slow down! If I've said something that's offended you, then I sincerely--"

"Shut the hell up. Now. Tell us where the Treasure is, or I'm gonna--"

_BANG_

Suddenly Shiho's head explodes into a flurry of blood and gore and there's a hole right where her face used to be, pouring out bits of blood and bone as she collapses to her knees. Luckily none of the gore gets on us but judging by how Yoshizawa and Takamaki are freaking the hell out it might as well have.

" _Shiho--SHIHO OH MY GOD!"_ Takamaki drops down, her hands raised up to her mouth in horror.

The girls scream their goddamn lungs out as Sakamoto drops the gun, "H-holy _shit_...!"

I shake my head at him, "Who the hell gave _you_ a shotgun?"

"It- _it's fake! I got it from a gun shop!_ I-I just wanted to scare her a little, I didn't think I'd have blown her head off!"

"It's fake, huh?" Cat asks. "Well. It looks real enough."

"Wh-what...!?"

"In this cognitive world, this Manikin thought your shotgun was real. So when you accidentally pulled the trigger, real bullets came flying out."

"Oh my _God_ ," Sakamoto cries out, looking on the verge of puking.

"Sh-she's not real, right!?" Takamaki cries, "This-this is all just Kamoshida's _idea_ of who she is, _right!?_ "

"Relax. She looks real, but she's just a Manikin. Like that big ape version of Sakamoto in that cell."

"Oh thank _God_...!"

"Oh," he breathes. "Oh. Okay. Well. I, er... _ahhrmm_ , sorry about that. It, er, finger slipped."

"The sooner we leave this place, the better...," Yoshizawa grunts, shaking her head. "Morgana, why did you tell us to come through here, again?"

"I sense a Will Seed!" it sniffs. "Right at the center of the altar, there!"

There's a large podium underneath the altar. The book at the center of it is as tall as your arm and as wide as your torso. On the black leather cover, in stark golden Times New Roman text, reads **CODEX GIGAS - THE LEGACY OF KING SUGURU KAMOSHIDA.**

"Never mentioned what _Will Seeds_ are before...," I say as I grab the book; from its size, it ought to weigh near half as much as I do. Yet I'm able to carry it in my hands, as lightly as I would any other book.

"They're extremely distilled distortions!" says the cat. "Think of them like a...mini-Treasure."

"Wait," says Yoshizawa, "so, will stealing this affect the real Kamoshida's cognition?"

"Not really. If you steal these things, they'll just respawn when you leave the Palace."

"So how's this supposed to help us?"

"To beat your enemy you gotta know your enemy. Will Seeds contain a Palace Ruler's memories."

"No way," says Sakamoto. "Their _memories_...?"

"A distortion like this doesn't come outta the blue. It's something that's fed, something that grew over time. Unconsciously, of course. Safe to say if you opened that book, you'd all know more about Kamoshida than he ever did about himself. You'll probably know what caused the distortion in the first place. Give you an edge in both the real world and in here."

"Kinda memories you think are in here...?" I narrowed my eyes."

Shrugs Sakamoto. "Guy's got a frail ego somehow. Keeps himself all tough and whatever, but he can't stand it the second someone talks shit."

"Open it," says Takamaki, stepping over the bloody corpse of herself, "I wanna know."

"Are you sure?" Yoshizawa mutters.

"Gotta take this bastard down."

"I don't know about this, guys...," Yoshizawa winces, "this feels a little wrong, somehow..."

"What do you mean?" asks Sakamoto.

"Don't you think there're some lines we shouldn't cross? I mean, these are his _memories_ , here. I don't know, shouldn't some things remain private?"

Takamaki growls, glaring at the book, "I stopped caring about his privacy when Shiho jumped off the roof."

"Stopped caring when he broke my goddamn leg," says Sakamoto.

"And I never cared in the first place." I open the book and I feel suddenly like hands are grabbing my brain, piercing their fingers through my eyeholes--

_All of a sudden, I see him as a child. He's running around, in some playground. Children his age, all around him. Screaming his name, but only his surname. He's up on the monkey bars, climbing the jungle gym. Getting his shoes caked in sand, throwing mud at other kids. Laughing with them like he's one of them. It's something precious, something pure. When they call his name out, he feels like he's on top of the world. Like it's the greatest moment of his life, when he makes it to the very top of the jungle gym and stands over everyone and everyone acts like he's some sort of king. _

_ When grade school happens the trend continues. Little girls and their little crushes; when they give him their notes he's mostly elated that he's even received notes at all. He turns them down, all of them, but he doesn't try hurting their feelings when doing it. But they cry anyway, and he doesn't know why. He doesn't know how to make them stop crying. He's doing well enough. Well enough that his parents praise him, urge him to keep at his sports activities. They tell him he can become someone. That he can become something amazing. He could live like a king, with the money he'd make. _

_ When he gets to high school, things get slightly more complicated as Kamoshida finds out nobody interests him. Nobody except those slimmer, more innocent, younger. But he shelves that side of him, figures it's not gonna be too bad. Everyone talks, but nobody says anything that matters. So he shambles, he walks, he talks here and there, but the real him is out there on the track field. Or playing volleyball, or basketball, or football. It's when he runs. _

_ When the wind's blowing through his hair and nothing seems to matter in the world. When the crowd's singing and the opponent's struggling to even catch their breath. Ball bounces and everything goes silent. Foot plants itself in the ground and the planet just disappears, it's just him and this moment. He's out there, he's going to win. Every time he tells himself this, it comes true. _

_ It happens for the first game, then the second, then the third. Before he's even aware of it, he's playing nationals. Everyone's cheering on him then. His parents watch his every game, even when they get too old to even remember his birthday. His friends come around from time to time, congratulate him on his wins. He makes some new friends in his teammates, some even on opposing teams. A nickname goes around, one only his closest friends know: "King Suguru." _

_ One night he's out drinking with them, relaxing in some bar, getting wasted and getting high on himself. One of his friends brings in a girl who looks like she's just turned sixteen, I see it through the makeup. The girl is in way over her head but she doesn't know it, she doesn't know it because she's a kid, and she's stupid and she's trying to look like a grownup to be better than everyone else in her school. _

_ Not before long I see someone crying in an alleyway, someone far too young to be curled up in a ball, stuck behind a garbage bin, with her clothes ripped apart. Kamoshida's standing over her with two of his buddies from the bar, and they decide to walk away after deciding to schedule another get together at the bar tomorrow night. They leave her there they leave her there and when Kamoshida realizes that they've left her there, he's already at the front door of his apartment. Kamoshida looks at himself, looks at his unzipped pants, then runs in his bathroom and holds himself throughout the whole night. _

_ He doesn't tell anybody. And life goes on, as it does. _

_ He doesn't go back to those friends of his, and he doesn't ever go to that bar again. Every time he closes his eyes he sees the girl holding herself. Every time he shuts his ears, he hears her weeping noises. Every time he punches something, punches a wall, he makes himself remember how much of a terrible person he is. But in his most private moments, all he can think of his how pretty she was, and lets himself be an animal. _

_ He's not like everyone else. He's not. He's a good man. He's supposed to be. _

_ When he wins the last big game of his senior year the crowd cheers him, calls him out, treats him like a king. He's supposed to be happy, why isn't he happy? Everyone's voices all coalesce into one big cheer and it shames him, it shames him deep inside. It's something twisting and turning in him, and it's burrowing into his heart his lungs his guts. _

_ He thinks of telling everyone right there what he's done. Right there, on the spot, just vomiting out all the words. But he likes it. He likes hearing the crowd. He likes how they cheer his name. And of course he does. He's a king. Why shouldn't he like it? What does he have to feel bad for? What could possibly be wrong with him, with all these people cheering out his name? _

_ He can't be a bad man. He isn't. He knows he isn't. _

_ When he goes to college, he goes to one far away from his old friends, far away from the bar and the noises, and lets himself just be silent in everything except sports. It's in his nature, he can't stay away from sports. He's too good. The girls fawn over him, like they always do, but he still turns them down. They're too old for him, and he still has bad thoughts every now and again to that one night in the alley. The boys talk to him and he even trains some of them, they love how he drives them to be better than they are. _

_ He doesn't tell anyone about what he did, or why he did what he did. The bigger part of him doesn't even know why he did what he did. But the smaller part he keeps locked away knows exactly why. _

_ It's the same small part that drives him to look at things nobody should, to enter places nobody ever must. When he discovers the deep web from a friend, he looks for it because he knows the things that ebb away at him lie there. When he sees small, thin bodies like the ones he sees he's disgusted and he's enraged but at the same time he can't stop licking his lips and feeling so hollow yet so full. _

_ Then the blood comes. Then he sees the red, he sees the kids with their eyes blown out and their bodies all mangled. And he knows that he is a better person than whoever posted those pictures. _

_ With that knowledge, he can sleep. _

_ He's an Olympian by the time he reaches his mid-20's and when he's up there on the stage again in front of all those people, the thought crosses his mind once more. He can't stop it from burning into himself. He wonders why? Why is he still thinking the things he's thinking? It was all in the past, there's nothing he can do, he doesn't even remember the girl's name. Why should he try to remember? Why should he try to fight it all? He's a king, he's loved by all the people. When he cries onstage on the day he wins, he ultimately passes it off as tears of joy when really he doesn't even know if he wants to keep on living. _

_ But why should he not want to keep on living? Won't they be sad? Won't, won't his fans, his parents, his friends miss him when he's gone? Won't he be remembered by them? Won't tears flow at his funeral? He doesn't see why not. He's done a lot of bad things, and he knows it, but in the end he's no better than anyone else. He's done so much good. People love him. He's not a bad person, he knows he can't be. What makes him so upset about all this? What makes him so scared, so sad? So empty about just everything? _

_ He has a medal around his neck. He is a symbol of success. He alone is a standard that people can aspire to be. Why should he feel bad over some stupid thing he did when he was drunk? And you'd think, you'd think the girl would speak up to someone in the media, after all this time. But he hasn't heard a thing. He hasn't heard a thing at all, so the girl most likely got over it by now. _

_ It doesn't matter, none of it matters. It's him, it's all him. People love him. So why can't he? _

_ When the high of the win dies down, he realizes just how quickly people forget. And it's all a shame. The years roll by and sooner or later another man comes in and wins the world. Wins praise, wins trinkets. And it doesn't matter, it shouldn't matter. It shouldn't itch at him the way it does. It shouldn't make him remember how he used to be up there, as often as it does. _

_ They tell you, when you're a child, to just be yourself, and everything will be fine, right? _

_ So why shouldn't he just be himself? Why can't he just be proud with himself? Why does everyone have to smile at him, force him to fall to their expectations like they do? Them and their smiles, he sees his parents and hears them talk about how proud they are of him. He sees the crowd and he can't bear to see the unrelenting horror on their faces. They don't deserve that, they deserve better. _

_ They deserve a king, not a monster. _

_ He's a king, he tells himself. He's a king. He's a king. _

_ He has nothing to be sorry for. As long as he has that medal around his neck, it's a sign that everything he's won up to this point will be for nothing if he just gives up now. He's himself and he loves himself and he will never be anything other than what he is. _

_I'd see him in one scene just standing in a single room, a girl right in front of him and no one else. A girl my age, one I do not recognize. She's wearing the Shujin female uniform and Kamoshida's just looking at her impassively, calmly ordering for her to strip. I recognize the room they're in as the nurse's office of the school, and though the girl looks unfathomably disturbed by what he's ordered her to do she does it. And he buries himself into her neck, her hair. Then the memory ends and we shift to somewhere else._

_Another girl, someone a little older, but not by much. She's wearing leather, her skirt is short, her heels are high, and her face is thick with makeup to make her look far older than she actually is. This one actually looks consensual in a way, from the look in her eyes to the way he props her up to the way her legs lock around his back as he lifts her up and down in repeated motions. But in the end, minors can't consent. And more to the point I do not recognize this girl either; they aren't even in Shujin, they're just in some random back alley against a wall, somewhere that resembles Shinjuku._

_Another girl, wearing a soccer uniform. She's from Shujin, but even this one I don't recall seeing; she's got short hair and hazel eyes and she's looking at Kamoshida bashfully. The next moment I see her trying to compose herself in a gym locker, Kamoshida pushing her out as he tells her to go home. He retracts when he sees how roughly he's handling her and his voice turns calm even as she continues to cry and grip the sides of her arms._

_Too many to count. More than you can imagine, it seems for a moment. Names, I hear, passing like clouds. Hikimura. Yamagata. Tanaka. Mimura. Takagawa. Ogata. All these scenes pass by and none of them stop the bitter hole in my heart from growing wider and wider. The spiral continues on, as does the madness. There's tears often, from the women; when there aren't tears, there's restrained rage, and when there's not rage there's resignation, and when there's neither there is simply pleasure and debauchery and depravity. All of these, after the first girl, the one with the tattered clothes in the alleyway. The first one he...It is at this point that I see him alone, in an empty faculty office. He's sitting in a chair and waiting for someone to come through the door. His heart is pounding, racing. His pants are tight and his hands are sweating. I can't tell if he's enraged or if he's aroused. His body is warm and he sees someone come through the door. Someone younger than he, someone my age._

_Someone from Shujin._

_He's looking at her, eyeing her bruises on her face and on her neck and in her eye and on her knee. He's looking at her chest now, as she turns uncomfortably. Then her waist, then her thighs. The girl is holding her arms and she's turning away from him. She doesn't want to look at him, she doesn't even want to be in the same room as him. So she asks why she's needed, she wants to go home, she can't stay here. And all he can think of is how much he can't stop seeing her squirm. He loves the way her eyes scrunch up and how she purses her lips when he comes closer, when he gets up from his seat and comes closer._

_His nose is in her hair and his lips are merely brushing against her neck as he whispers to her how much he cannot understate the importance of the both of them keeping quiet. She nods, but she trembles and she's cringing as she nods, his voice is hissing with intent and though he tries to sound cordial she knows that every intonation is punctuated with relentless want._

_And then he says,_ "I promise I'll be gentle with you," _in a soft voice, and she wants nothing more than to leave at that very moment, and he knows she wants to leave. He knows she's being resistant._ "This is all your friend's fault," _he says._ "Don't blame me. Just close your eyes. It'll all be over before you even know it."

I drop the book right then and there, and I'm lucky it didn't hit any of our feet.

"What _happened_?" Sakamoto asks. "Y-you okay, dude?"

"What...what the hell did I just...!?"

"So you were the only one who saw his memories?" asks the cat. "Interesting."

"I saw...him as a _kid_...up until he grew up, and..."

Sakamoto grunts, "How come _we_ couldn't?"

Cat shrugs, "How should I know? _I_ could see their memories in an instant."

I put a hand to my head. "I saw Suzui..."

Takamaki's eyes snarl open wide, "In his memories?"

I face her, "She was _terrified_ of him. He buried his face in her hair, and he...he said it was all _her friend_ 's fault..."

And at that moment, her face becomes unlike a person's face.

"AAGH! Get _offa me_!"

And we see the corpse of the Suzui Manikin grabbing onto Sakamoto's leg, her face is still _gone_ and there's blood continuing to pour down the gaping hole and yet hervoice comes out clear, clearer than ever, even though she has no mouth or jaw with which she'd be able to talk--

"You are all a danger to King Kamoshida! None of you can leave here alive! You must all be caught and executed at once! Each and every one of _you must be put down like the dogs--"_

_BANG_

Takamaki blows her skull open again, and again, and again, the shotgun in her hands. She starts blasting everywhere, every inch of her, blood splattering all over our clothes, gunshots ringing so loudly we all have to cover our ears. Within minutes, the cognitive Shiho Suzui is left with all her parts in pieces, her white gown now completely soaked in red.

"You did it, _you did it, please stop_!!" Yoshizawa grabs onto Takamaki's arms and pushes the shotgun down. "She's dead."

"Not for long," Cat says. "If we don't steal the Treasure, she'll just keep on coming back."

With red streaking across her face, Takamaki remains seething, glaring at the gore spread out all over the ground.

Suddenly the doors to the chapel burst open. A woman approaches, three or four knights at her back. Blue eyes and blonde hair, kept in a bun. She wears the outfit of a medieval Pope along with the bizarre headpiece and her expression's as dumb and dull as the Suzui Manikin's was. 

And of all things, a voice with a distinct British tinge pierces through the air, as she approaches the mulch that was once Suzui. "Murdering thieves. Do you realize what the you've just done? It was one thing to kill the guards. Another to kill the Vulgar Ape. But _her_? You'd kill a nun, one that the King himself had chosen to service him?"

Takamaki's eyes twitch with rage, and she says not a word as she raises the shotgun right to her face.

But the Manikin, like before, keeps fucking _talking_ , "You Thieves have driven the King into such an intense fear that he has holed himself up in the highest room of the tallest tower in this castle. And now, you murder a defenseless girl? She was my dearest friend, you monsters!"

"Shut the hell up right now," she seethes, tears streaming down her eyes.

"I had failed to service him!" the Manikin cries, tears gushing from her eyes. "I'd failed, and he'd found satisfaction with dear Shiho! He'd loved her and cherished the time he'd spent with her, and now you've thrown another of his precious followers away!" she wipes her face and concentrates her rage on Takamaki, "I, as Arch Priestess, cannot abide by this sacrilege. Every resource must be expended. These blasphemous thieves ought to be drawn and quartered, their wounds salted until--"

_BANG._

Ann Takamaki's Manikin is left clutching her quarter-face, blindly grabbing at the blood and the meat flopping down from her skull.

* * *

**"My...it's taken far too long."**

Ann Takamaki is a coward. She knows it, deep in herself.

She's long stopped caring about the insults the girls sling at her behind her back, and has heard enough rumors to last a lifetime. But she hasn't said a thing, hasn't told anyone, hasn't wanted to. She doesn't need to, she'd reason. She doesn't need anybody's pity.

She'd say she'd be okay, as long as she had Shiho by her side. That nobody else would matter, not the girls who take digs at her appearance, not the boys who try to woo her with fake smiles, not Kamoshida and all the horror he's got inside of him.

But in the end, like always, she's alone.

She didn't want to confront Kamoshida. She knew she couldn't, not directly; and yet she wanted to, more than anything else in the world. She was willing to take whatever chance would present itself to her, all because she was just _that_ desperate to make a difference. But a difference for what, exactly?

This question kept her awake, most nights. Was she afraid because of what Kamoshida would do to her? Or was she afraid for Shiho, and what _she_ would have suffered under him? She didn't even know anymore. Was she even fighting him now for Shiho? Or just to salvage what wounded scraps of herself she has left?

But she's not questioning anything anymore. She knows exactly what she's meant to do. And why all this madness just has to stop, here and now.

**"Are you to remain standing there, gawking at what you've caused like a foolish whore?  
There is nothing to be gained from mourning your failure." **

She remembers holding Shiho in her arms, that day she jumped from the school building. She remembers everyone over her shoulder, watching the scene unfold. Some taking pictures, others just talking amongst themselves. None of them lifting a finger, none of them wanting or _caring_ enough to intervene. Because why should they? What would the point be?

Shiho, to them, was just some other girl.  Shiho apologized to her. She _apologized_ to Takamaki, as she faded into unconsciousness. Shiho shouldn't have. If anything, Takamaki should have been the one.

**"Forgiving him was never the option;  
Such is the scream of the other you that dwells within." **

At once, she begins to understand. The fire burns through her body and makes her everything tremble and trill with pain and pleasure, excitement and agony. It burrows into her brain and eats at her eyes, but it feels too good to want it to stop. She can feel her wrists purple as she pulls at the locks around her hands, and something red forms over the surface of her eyes.

**"Blood for blood. If need be, his head must be served on a platter.  
Nothing can be solved by restraining yourself." **

She remembers laughing. She's a child now, one too young to know about sex or coercion or molesters or anything that vile. She's with Shiho, not with anyone else, because everyone else looks at her like she's some strange entity from another planet. But Shiho doesn't, Shiho outright tells her her drawings are terrible, or that she doesn't look good in blue, or that she's gonna be her friend forever and ever.

Shiho's in a hospital bed now, and Takamaki's holding her hand. Hoping for her to wake up. She stays in the room, and the minutes feel like days, and though she stays with Shiho's parents and though Shiho's parents consider the girl as family, Takamaki has to leave. She has to, Shiho's parents tell her to come again, they tell her she can visit tomorrow, that she has to go home, that she must rest herself up, that she doesn't have to do any of this.

Takamaki remembers kissing Shiho's forehead before leaving. And she doesn't know if she did it out of a particularly friendly sort of affection, or if it was something more. But it's all she needs.

"I hear you...Salome."

**"Then I'll gladly lend you my strength."**

She glares at her Manikin with a red mask on her face, and prying it off takes all her energy as blood blasts out her eyes.

The blue fire emanates from her as a woman twice her size barrels out of her head. The woman is wearing a large dress, frilled in blood red and a deep purple; the dress is semi-transparent and thus exposes the bareness underneath. Her skin is white as snow and her arms and legs are adorned with jewels. Her eyes glow a brilliant shade of blue as golden hair billows out the back of her head. Her left hand carries a metal plate, while her right hand caresses the severed head lying in said plate; the severed head is of a bearded man, wearing a frozen expression of rage.

**"I am thou, thou art I. From the Sea of thy Soul, I cometh.  
I am Salome, the Temptress of Kings."** ********


	17. What's a King to a God?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Human beings in a mob_  
>  _What's a mob to a king?_  
>  _What's a king to a God?_  
>  _What's a God to a non-believer_  
>  _Who don't believe in anything?_
> 
> _-_ Kanye West, _No Church in the Wild_

**4 / 15 / 2016**

The Manikin and her missing face cries out for her soldiers, _"_ Don't just stand there, _kill her!"_

But they're not quick enough, they can't be quick enough. Fire spews from the ground like they've come from small volcanoes, and soon enough the knights whose armor sets haven't blackened have melted away, and Kamoshida himself is forced to rear himself back.

Her robes catch fire and she immediately wriggles them off her, gesticulating madly,  _"Stop this! S-stop it right now!"_

Takamaki just glares at her as the fire burns through everyone he's brought to her, to us. The knights begin to weep and wail and melt away like butter to the sun, and the Manikin keeps pleading, as she backs herself away. Takamaki is dressed in a blood-red leather full-body suit, with pink gloves and scarlet heels. Blood pours down her eyes as the fire rages throughout the halls of the Sugurine Chapel and the Manikin rises up in fury.

_"You cannot do thIIISSS!"_

There's a new noise now; it sounds like rain rapping against windows, like horse hooves beating against mud, like a stampede of elephants. Blades burst out from behind the Manikin's back before taking on the shape of bat wings. Pale, ivory skin transforms into a dark purple. Gold embroideries pattern themselves on the creature's dark flesh, resembling flowers and leaves. Its tongue is white and its eyes are blazing yellow. It is naked, and its waist has become a serpent's tail.  It stops screaming and stops crying and indeed, I hear laughter, something like a climax even. Then it stands over us, its dark form looming over as spreads its wings wide.

** "Thou shalt not escape the love of King Kamoshida! Thou shalt not refuse his mercy nor deny his power! Any and all who stand against the God-given King Kamoshida must perish at once!" **

The first of us to charge forward, is of course Ann Takamaki herself.

" _Salome_!"

I see her Persona, large and beautiful and grand and fatal. Her dress and her hair flail and billow in the air as she rushes forward in a mad dash, and I do emphasize the _mad_. 

Then the Manikin's maw widens as her teeth grow sharp enough to shatter concrete, she rears her head up and I see fires flare from her mouth—

The flames engulf Salome and she opens her arms wide to the Manikin, who lashes out and lunges; Salome's hand, Salome's whike arm rams itself into the flaming throat and pulls, and reaches, and grabs at something.  Takamaki's arm twitches, and soon the pain is enough for her to fall to her knees and scream. Yoshizawa and Sakamoto run to her, the former asking the cat "What happened!?"

"It's normal, any injuries her Persona experiences will be felt on her physical body--"

Takamaki just keeps her eyes forward, on the Manikin, glaring as though the creature is something that must be wiped clean from the planet without a trace. Though Salome's flaming arm is stuck whole within the Manikin's open jaws, the Manikin's able to speak as it claws at her--

**"BELIEVE IN THE LOVE OF KING KAMOSHIDA! REPENT THY SINS BEFORE THE GREAT KING KAMOSHIDA! PROSTRATE THYSELF BEFORE THE WONDERFUL KING KAMOSHIDAAAAA--!"**

Salome tears out the Manikin's tongue, along with most of her insides in a flurry of fiery blood. Salome's expression is a stark and calm smile, while Takamaki's bleeding eyes are fierce and betray all the fury burning in herself. The Manikin pours blood out from its open face, its missing jaw, its mouth gurgles and grumbles but speaks clearly again and starts weeping tears of blood--

 **"It was my fault...,"** it murmurs, **"I had failed to be at his side...the glorious King. I denied his affections for so very long--"**

Salome raises an arm and the head on the platter _roars_ \--fires coat the Manikin, spreading all over her like an infection and even though she screams and burns and flails in fiery Hell she still fucking won't shut up.

 **" _IT WAS BECAUSE OF MEEEEE!!!_ " **and she thrashes and charges again, at Takamaki herself--stomping and crashing throughout the now-flaming chapel and raising a claw up to slash her in twain--

"Persona."

Satanael sends a round into her chest so large that her left breast and a little of her right are just gone. Another shot divides her head, a third separates her tail from her waist, and a fourth sends her right arm against the wall.

Takamaki doesn't want to hear another goddamn word out its mouth, so she just has Salome unleash hell upon the remains again and again and again.

By the time the Manikin's just an ashen corpse in the center of the chapel, Takamaki's eyes are dull, and her breaths are heavy. She's shaking now, and she moves her head aimlessly. She closes her eyes and bites her lower lip as she growls and hunches over, still gripping her arm as she falls face first into the floor.

"T-Takamaki...!" cries Yoshizawa, grabbing her.

"What happened...!?" cries Sakamoto.

"She's tired. You were all pretty tired when you got your Personas first, remember?" says the cat. "None of you taxed yourselves like she did."

I say then, "We need to get out of here before more show up."

Sakamoto nods, "Okay," carrying Takamaki bridal-style.

We step over the charred bodies and block our noses from the smoke. But something tugs on my leg, just as we're about to finally leave.

"There is nothing you can do," says the blackened Manikin, recognizable as Shiho Suzui from her voice alone . "He is a king."

"Oh my God...," Yoshizawa brings a hand to her mouth.

"We are all ants at his feet. None of us deserve to even breathe the same air as he. Flee from this castle. Flee with your lives. He will destroy you if you stay."

Suddenly she unhands me and her body fades and blooms into dust, swirling in the air like a bird taking flight. The dust soon hits a blank spot on the wall, and another naked girl with an empty face and colorless hair appears in the murals.

* * *

We get out of range of the gymnasium, and return to the real world. Once we all make our way to the courtyard, Sakamoto lays Takamaki gently upon the bench, lying her flat on her back.

"She just... became another girl on the wall." Yoshizawa looks like she's about to cry. "That's what Suzui-senpai is to Kamoshida. All she's ever been. He's probably _forgotten_ about her already."

"You think he can't get any lower," Sakamoto balls his fists up, trembling. "Hikawa. You said you saw his memories. What did you see?"

"When I touched the book, I saw his whole life. From childhood to now. I saw everything. He's assaulted so many girls he doesn't even remember their names. Suzui's hardly even a footnote. Just someone he wanted on the side. He's been fixated on girls like Takamaki multiple times, of course. She's just the latest in a long line. Some of them, he's charismatic enough to pull off a consensual encounter with. For most of them, he isn't. All of them are either barely legal or not even."

Sakamoto cups his mouth, "I never knew him. All this time. I thought I knew exactly what he was. I didn't know shit."

"Takamaki-senpai...?" Yoshizawa mutters, seeing her stir from her slumber. "Takamaki-senpai, c-can you wake up?"

Takamaki blinks a little, murmurs a few noises, then finds it in herself to sit upright, covering her forehead. "Oh, God..."

"Are you alright?"

"Head hurts like hell. But...I'm fine," weakly, she turns to face us. "I'm assuming that what I remember happening wasn't a dream..."

Yoshizawa says, "No. I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm sorry. I promised I wouldn't slow you down...then I fainted right there on the spot."

"You were exhausted. So was I, when I first summoned Cendrillon. Don't worry."

Takamaki looks around, looks at the orange sky. "I'm assuming we didn't spend that much time in the Palace, huh...?"

"Nah. Not even six PM yet," mutters Sakamoto.

"Then let's go back in."

"What?"

She swings her legs from the bench, "I can still go after—" the _second_ she stands, her knees give way and she collapses. "Oh _come on_ _...!_ "

"You need to relax," Cat suddenly cuts in. "You've just summoned your Persona. You're too tired to continue on for the day. You try again, you'll prolly die."

"Are you _serious_?" she groans and rages and laughs bitterly at her weak knees, tears forming at the edges of her eyes. "God, I'm so worthless."

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa try to comfort her as she crumples into herself even deeper. Between all five of us I see a dead girl with mottled and pale skin. Emaciated and wearing a bloody nightgown, utterly drained of blood and drenched in water from below her neck.

Sparks fly in my head as I turn back to the school. "Teachers usually stay behind after classes are over, typically from three to five hours. And Kamoshida wouldn't wanna look like the asshole who left work first."

Sakamoto turns to me, "What...?"

"So he's probably still in his office. Meaning we can actually finish this today."

"Wha-- _today_?" At that, Takamaki and Yoshizawa turn to face me.

"The Manikin of Takamaki said that Kamoshida's...afraid. So afraid he's holed himself up in the _highest room_ of the _tallest tower_ of the castle. It's the one place he feels safest in."

"What're you getting at?"

"The gym was a chapel. Full of his little _conquests_. So where in the whole school would he wanna hole himself up in if he intends to keep himself safe? He needs a place where he can be uninterrupted. Where he knows nobody can find him and he can do whatever the hell he wants."

Sakamoto's eyes widen. "His office."

"That's where the Treasure is," I smile.

"What? You sure?"

"Positive. If it's the one place in the whole school where he feels at his safest, then undoubtedly the Treasure's there."

"Perhaps," says the cat. "It's worth a shot. What do you wanna do?"

"Cat. Back then. You told me something about how some event in the real world is needed to trigger the manifestation of the Treasure in the cognitive world. Care to explain again?"

It whirls around to face everyone. "When it comes to stealing a person's Treasure, the plan is thus: you probe the Palace, form a layout of the place, and decide the best path to get to it. Then, you trigger an emotional reaction in the Palace owner, in the _real_ world; something warning him that what he values most will be stolen right from under his nose. It'll affect the Palace, and will make the Treasure fully manifest into a corporeal form. Lastly, you just dive in the Palace itself...and steal the Treasure."

Everybody looks like they kind of understand but not really.

So I ask the Cat, "What happens when a person encounters their own Shadow?"

"Senpai, what...?"

The Cat just grins at me, knowing exactly what I'm planning. "When someone overcomes their own Shadow, they obtain a Persona. If a human and a Shadow met face-to-face, the Shadow would normally attack them without question. Even someone's own personal Shadow would attack their host without sentiment or fear of the consequences. But a Shadow born of a distortion great enough to spawn a Palace? They're different. They're driven by _desire_. And if you're about to die, I think you'd be pretty keen to give up whatever desire's threatening your life. But, well. Obsessiveness is a self-destructive mistress, so who knows how they'd react?"

"What are you even planning to do to him?"

"We threaten him," I tell Sakamoto.

"Good luck with that," he sighs. "Guy's buff as hell and can kick our asses three ways to Sunday—"

"We confront him in his own office and send him into his own Palace. Threaten him right in front of his Shadow. Tell the Shadow that if he doesn't give us the Treasure, we blow his brains out."

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa just stare at me, mouths agape. "Dude. _N_ _o_. We can't just—"

Takamaki rises to her feet, "I'll go for it."

"What— _Takamaki_!"

"We just have to get close enough to him, right?"

"Yes. It's proximity-based."

"Wait—hold on a sec, would ya!?"

"Senpai, I don't think this is a good idea," says Yoshizawa. "It's too risky."

"Too risky?"

"He's an Olympic athlete, so he definitely has the skill and the strength to just throw us around like—"

"In _this_ world, he does. As soon as we get close enough to send him into his castle, he's powerless. Our Personas can easily break his spine if we saw fit."

"You for real...?" Sakamoto groans, shaking his head. "So what, we throw him into his Palace? And then what do we do?"

"Like I said, we threaten him. Right in front of his Shadow."

"You can't be _serious_ ," Sakamoto cries.

"Kamoshida's a coward, so I'm certain there's at least a fifty-percent chance we get the Treasure."

"And what if his Shadow doesn't agree to your terms?" asks Yoshizawa. "What if he doesn't _want_ to give up his desire!?"

I shrug, "We'll deal with it as it comes."

"What do you mean by that!?" she shouts.

"Put a gun to his head. Shoot parts of him off. Whatever works, I guess."

"That's _horrible_ ," Sakamoto shakes his head.

"Thought you didn't care what happens to him."

"No—I mean— _look_ , goin' into his Palace and stealing his Treasure and _maybe_ causing him to shut down, is different from holding a gun to his head and threatening the guy directly to his face! If anything, doin' that'll likely give him more of a reason to kill himself!"

"Either way, there's a non-insignificant chance he dies. Might as well cut the middle man out. You said it yourself, it doesn't matter what happens to him. He might as well jump off a cliff."

"You're asking us to torture him," Yoshizawa says. "This isn't what I was willing to fight for."

" _You_ said that we didn't have a choice but to steal his Treasure. You agreed entirely. This is just a faster way of getting it done."

"There are other ways we can—!"

"He said he'd have us three expelled by the next board meeting. Obviously he's not gonna wait to talk about how much he hates us on the day itself. Guy's a walking rumor mill. He'll plant the seeds in the teachers' heads, the students' heads. By the time of the meeting everybody'll be on board with kicking us outta school. We can't fuck around now. We've been in that castle three separate times, and not one of those times did we even come close to getting the Treasure."

"You're not going to convince me to threaten and torture him, senpai."

"He deserves it," Takamaki blurts suddenly.

Sakamoto looks like he doesn't know who he's talking to, "Takamaki, c'mon..."

"Shiho's in a coma because I wasn't willing to stand up against a sick asshole who used her to blow off steam. I hope he rots in hell forever."

"Do you realize what you're sayin' here!?" Sakamoto cries. "You're gonna let yourself sink down to that level because o' him!?"

"What are you suddenly on your goddamn high horse for, huh!?" she shouts. "You were so gung-ho about getting rid of him, but _now_ that we're actually getting our hands dirty you wanna back out!?"

"I want him _gone_ , but—that's too far. That's way too far. We ain't part o' the Secret Service, Takamaki! How're ya gonna make his Shadow accept the threat? What, are ya gonna waterboard him?"

I can't resist saying, "Not a bad idea."

"Senpai, he'll obviously _remember_ what happened inside the Palace—"

"And do what? Tell the cops a couple of his own students threw _him_ , a super-muscular Olympic medalist, into a goddamn castle? Say that we beat the shit out of him, and stole his Treasure? They'd take him in for drugs before that'd even get off the ground. Besides, if his heart's changed, he'll either feel so much remorse he won't even care about the what we did, or he'll just straight-up kill himself and be out of our lives forever."

"It's like you want him dead more than you want him to confess," Yoshizawa glares at me.

"I _want_ to get this over and done with before our lives are ruined."

"We don't have to go as far as you say we do!"

"You think that's going too far? No. Going too far is me invading his Palace by myself and blowing his Shadow's head off. Making him braindead right on the spot."

"Wh-what...?"

Sakamoto steps between me and Yoshizawa, "BS. I'm calling your bluff. Your Persona's strong, but it ain't _that_ powerful—"

"It's no bluff," Cat says suddenly. "I've seen him in action, way before any of you did. What you've seen out of his Persona is only a fraction of its power. If Kazuya _really_ wanted to, he could just murder Kamoshida without any of your help."

Sakamoto and Yoshizawa don't say a word. Trying to figure out what they could possibly say to convince a monster to change his ways.

"I understand that you want to keep your hands at least a little clean. But no matter how we go about this, there's always the risk of him dying. The only reason I've chosen _not_ to just kill him yet is because I know you'll feel all guilty for dragging me into this and killing him under your watch—"

Yoshizawa actually slaps me. Looks scared and angry as shit while doing it. But she does it.

"You chose to help us. Neither of us _dragged_ you into any of this."

"Keep telling yourself that—"

"That day you told us about all this, Sakamoto and I went into the Palace ourselves, and you followed after. Even when Sakamoto-senpai begged you for help after the fact, you could've said no and ignored us for the rest of the volleyball meet. At any point, you could've just stopped and turned away! But you chose to help out, because you wanna put a stop to him, too! Don't you dare pin _all this on us, senpai_!"

I just look at her, then to Sakamoto. I see in his eyes that he's folding.

"It'll be a last resort."

"What!? Senpai, you can't—!"

"I don't like this any more than you do," he growls, "but he's gotta point. I don't want to kill the guy, but at the rate we're goin', we're screwed. We've gotta get the Treasure soon."

"Uh, guys...?" mutters the cat.

"Yet you still want to hold off until you're absolutely sure we _have_ to do it."

"I hate him, more than I've ever hated anybody. But like I told you, man. I don't wanna have to cross that line without knowing I tried everything I could."

"Hello, you guys?"

I ignore it a second time, "We'll see how things go over the next few days."

"Let's try a week."

"Too risky—"

"The board meeting's in _May_. We have _two_ weeks for this shit, at least give us a chance—"

" _GUYS_!" Cat shouts, and we turn to face it. "Your friend's gone."

"What?"

"She just...ran into the school."

The doors leading back into school swing back into place.

Yoshizawa and Sakamoto turn to each other and dash back inside the building. I feel long black hairs coiling around my neck, and I follow shortly after them.

* * *

Hallway leading to the faculty office. We're so close I can goddamn smell him. Lucky that nobody else is here.

Office lights are still open. Guy might be in there, checking papers or watching porn. And if he is, then we've fucking got him.

"Takamaki, wait!"

"No."

Sakamoto grabs her arm, "Wait, would you _please_ wait a sec!? Please, I'm beggin' you, _please_!"

She pulls herself away from him, ""We're right here. Let's get this over with— "

"We'll do it, but not now! Come on! We still have time, _we still fucking have time we don't have to— "_

"You don't know a goddamn thing!" she shouts at him, so loudly and fiercely he rears back. "I just stood by and let her take everything upon herself—"

"You couldn't have done anything," Yoshizawa steps in and grabs her shoulders, "please, _please_ listen to me, you can't keep _blaming yourself_ , you were put through the same— "

She roars, tears pouring through, "He'd hit her, he'd _abuse her_ and I'd speak with her every goddamn day, but I wouldn't even—I wouldn't even come with her, I wouldn't even ask where the bruises came from or why _she looked like she was dead all the goddamn time!"_

Yoshizawa looks like she's on the verge of tears, "Takamaki-senpai..."

"I've never been able to do anything for her...!" Takamaki crumples then, falling to her knees. "Every single thing I've done up to this point was to keep myself safe from _him._ And because I wouldn't stand up to him or look out for her or even _be there when she needed me_ , she jumped off the roof of the school. I needed her more than she ever needed me. I don't even deserve to call myself her friend."

Yoshizawa kneels down, to face her, "That's not true..."

"She should hate me," Takamaki seethes, "She should hate me until the end of the goddamn world, because I'm an idiot who refused to see what I let happen."

I could tell her what Suzui had told me a few days ago. _My best friend is often misunderstood too, all because of her looks._ I could tell her that it was equally obvious that Suzui had cherished her regardless of everything. And that, if she were awake right now, she probably still does cherish her.

But that would mean giving Sakamoto and Yoshizawa more ammo—

"What's going on here?"

You've got to be kidding me.

We see him. This tall musclebound jackoff with a shit-eating grin and condescending eyes; he's pulling Takamaki away from us and she looks fucking furious—

"Did they hurt you?" he asks—

"Get your goddamn hands off me!" she shouts, wrenching herself away from him and goddamn, he actually looks a little sad at that.

"King Suguru Kamoshida!" I cry out.

Kamoshida just eyes me carefully, and with more than a little contempt.

"Prithee, I ask thee simply for an audience! I know that mercy is far beyond my reach, that I am undeserving to ask thee for thine forgiveness; I am a weak knave, worth not even the chaff separated from the wheat during harvest."

Sakamoto's eyes widen, "Dude, what're you doing."

Kamoshida just shakes his head, "What, are you trying to flatter me, kid?"

"We tore through your castle. We killed your knights. We destroyed your property, and we disrespected and insulted you. We do not deserve salvation. We deserve to be executed. Indeed, this is true. Our heads, lopped off our bodies; our bodies, flayed and quartered and stuffed, ultimately left as display pieces for others who would dare to try and trespass upon your domain. Surely, as the king of this castle, it would be mad of you to let us live. What I propose is not so much a plea for our salvation; rather, a trial. A trial, by combat."

At that, Kamoshida's ears perk up as he looks more offended and disgraced than ever before.

"Are you making a fool out of me?" Kamoshida throats out, clearly unenthused by my grandiose gestures. "Cut this shit. I know you're just trying to get under my skin."

"Senpai, what—?"

"So you don't even have the decency to execute me yourself?" I ask him. "You run this castle, you run an army, but when the guts and the grime are involved you stand back and let the higher-ups take care of it all?"

"You don't talk to me like that—"

"I dare only speak the truth. All you've done is run away from your cruelty, ignore your victims; you can't face them head-on. You can't face anything you've done head-on—"

"What do you know?" he grunts, smirking at me, folding his arms. "You're scum. Like the rest of them."

"We're scum, but we're not even afraid of you! What kinda king are you, when even his lowest opposition isn't even afraid of you!?"

"What, you think I need to _impress_ you?"

"I think you need to impress everybody, but nobody's impressed because in the end you used to be something and now you're nothing. Even after everything you endured and sacrificed you became what? A _school teacher_!?"

"I don't need to impress anyone," Kamoshida grunts out, through gritted teeth. "Least of all, little ingrates like you."

I need to get under his skin. I need to make him hurt. I need to make him get close to me. If I try to get my own hands on him, he might suplex me or throw me aside; make him come to me. Make him want to grab me by my neck, and choke the life out of me.

"What about that _girl_?" I smirk.

He's dismissive, of course. He's had many girls, I'll have to be more specific. "You're still on Suzui...?"

"No. I'm talking about that girl in the alleyway." He freezes for a moment. But just a moment. He goes back to his table, focuses on what's on the screen of his laptop. He doesn't say a word. So I continue, "You know. You're in a bar. You're with some friends, and you're having a good time. Cooling, chilling, relaxing. Drinking wine and settling yourselves in."

His eyes widen and his hand trembles.

"There's a girl who looks like she's sixteen, and I know you saw it through the makeup. You find her attractive, so you talk and you want to impress her. You want to get to know her, because she's cute. Before you know it she's crying. Her clothes are torn off, she's holding herself and you're just standing over her— you're standing over her with your friends. When you leave her there, and I know you've left her there, you feel guilty, of course—"

He walks over to me, standing over me. His eyes are cold. White. Bleak. Nothing but God Himself can save me now from his wrath. Keep talking.

"But you stop feeling guilty. You stop because you're a champion. You have to stop feeling guilty, because you can't confess what you did. So it becomes normal.  Oh wait. I know, that can't have been you. You're gentle."

I immediately start to suffocate the moment his hands squeeze. He's lifted me up above the ground, so much so that when I kick with my legs, the feet don't even reach the floor. I make my noises as I try to breathe, I grip his arms with one hand and my pocket with the other. When I get my phone out, he just lets his left hand go and tosses my phone aside—

"Get off of him!" cries Yoshizawa, as she and Sakamoto grab his arms and he just shrugs them both aside as he drops me.

"Planning to record this?" he laughs, putting his left hand back on my neck. "I don't think so."

Something's in his eyes. How fragile must his ego be if it takes this much to send him over the edge? He's laughing now, but it sounds more like wheezing. There's no rationality in his voice, no humanity in his eyes. Something tells me I've seen this out of him before, and I have; when his nose is in a young girl's hair, when his mouth is on her belly, when she's crying and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

I smirk, my voice slurred, "Can't even get women your own age, so you go after the ones who can't fight back."

"I'm not wrong," he says. "They should've all been glad. All of them. I'm more than they'll ever be. None of them—it's not my fault," he says, sounding like he's almost about to cry. "It's not my fault. You see them, don't you? Them, and their simpering whining stares—they _look_ at me all the time—! They keep telling me to _do_ things, and I can't keep up! I can never keep up! Who's to say I'm _wrong_ for doing what I want, _huh_!? _Who are you to say I'm wrong for doing what I want_!?"

What Kamoshida doesn't know is that I don't even have to use the phone for the plan to work. He then lets me go. Lets me fall to the ground. He lets me cough and spit bile and as I nearly vomit all over his shoes, I grip his pant leg. To which he shakes my arm off and kicks my stomach. Right in the middle of the office.

"I'm more than you all. I don't have to impress any of you. I don't know where you got these allegations, but if you ever choose to let them loose, I'll find you and your family and have you all thrown into prison for libel. You see, you still have no proof. You still have nothing at all. I already told you," he says, gripping my hair and squatting so as to face me directly. "I'm still up there, while you're still at the bottom of the world—" and I _laugh at him_ , I laugh and because I laugh he chokes the hell outta me again, I laugh so hard but because his hands are around my neck it sounds like growling and snarling, "— _fuck you! Fuck every single last goddamn one o' you! Fuck this whole school and all you insufferable little—_ "

A fist runs into Kamoshida's face, so hard it pushes his eye in and breaks his nose.

_AGGHH YOU LITTLE SHIT_ is the cry that he lets out and as he holds his face, as blood gushes down his nostrils he sees a look in Sakamoto's eyes that he hasn't seen ever before. And as he brings his hands down and makes his expression all cold and stoic, Sakamoto braces for what's gonna happen next as Yoshizawa tries to step in-between them both—

And we notice too late that Takamaki's already grabbed and opened up my phone.

"Senpai, _wait—"_

* * *

Suguru Kamoshida is cold. His head hurts, his body hurts. It's an alien sensation burning through his brainl; perpetual motion sickness overlapping with vertigo. For a moment he thinks he's dreaming, and he sees unbelievable shapes in his closed eyes. Like centipedes, like dragons, like gigantic mushrooms with tentacles spiralling under their caps.

When Suguru Kamoshida opens his eyes, there's something blasting through his head. Like a nail driven into his skull. The vertigo fades, as does the motion sickness, as do the visions. He hears people in the distance, _arguing_ from the tone of their voice, but he pays them no mind.

"My _head_...," he whines, struggling to get to his feet. When he gets a glimpse of where he is, he's initially curious and assumes it to be all just some extremely vivid dream. As anyone else would. But he feels the gravel underneath him. He smells the air, tastes it.

He's in an ornate room, the walls lined with the statues of barely legal girls that don't have any faces; the windows have _Nouveau Riche_ vomited all over them and everything's dark and damp, lit only by torches running across the walls.

He feels cold again. He's grasping his shoulders because he feels his heart palpitating.His back's sweating so much a large patch of his shirt's soaked already. He wants to stay, but he wants to leave. The whole goddamn place feels like a parody of everything he's ever wanted—

And then he sees the throne, as well as the man sitting upon it.

The man is frozen, utterly naked except for a red cape over his shoulders, some fucking bunny slippers, and a crown atop his head. The man's expression is one of utter fury and terror, and Kamoshida realizes far too late that the man looks exactly like him.  He asks for a moment what he's doing here, I can see him try to connect the dots in his head. He remembers, of course. Remembers the gym and remembers us. I told him something reprehensible, something he could not and cannot forget. Or ignore. So when he remembers everything, he turns around.

And the first thing he's met with is a boot to the face.

" _AAAGHH GOD—_ "  He holds his nose and the cracks form even deeper in the bone. He sees a shape, a dark looming shape that towers over him; one that almost seems as large as the castle, if not larger. " Wh-who are you...!?" he cries out helplessly. "S-someone, help me!"

My robes are silly, to be frank. I'm gaudy, campy, unfashionable. But to him, down in the dirt, his vision obscured by his fear of the unknown, he sees me as something to be feared. He's no longer a king. That look in his eyes; if you would ever see that look from a person as horrible as he, the catharsis would be unforgettable.

I smile at him, once he gets a good look at my face.  I kick him low in the stomach. An excited jolt runs through my leg as I hear the _GAAKK_ noise come from his mouth, and when his upper body keels over I shove that same boot right into his throat, forcing him to stay down.

"Sometimes the school fucks back," I say as Takamaki pulls a shotgun up to his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a lot of trouble figuring out how to get them to finally steal the Treasure. Debated on whether Kazuya or Ann should be the one to throw him into his Palace; settled on a compromise. Next chapter is the end of the Kamoshida arc, see ya thennnn


	18. Asmodeus, the Lustful Demon King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"I am a Shadow, the true self. Those who dare threaten the King deserve a fate worse than death!"**

**4 / 15 / 2016**

Of course Kamoshida's Shadow freaks out when we arrive suddenly into his chambers.

**"Wh-what is this!?"**

"Oh no."

Yoshizawa cries, "We didn't have to do this...!"

"That's the best part," I say as Takamaki wrenches Sakamoto's bag away from him.

"H-hey, Takamaki!"

"How do you put the gun together?" she says, dumping all the collapsed pieces of the shotgun from the bag onto the floor. Along with his notebooks and pens and crumpled-up pieces of paper.

"You can't just--!"

"It's now or never!" she shouts, eyes piercing through Sakamoto's own. " _Tell me how to put it together_!"

He acquiesces then, kneeling down and assembling it on the spot, as Yoshizawa continues, "You want to kill him. Oh my God, you just want him dead."

" _Oh please, good sir, show mercy upon the pedophile._ Don't talk stupid."

 **"What have you done!? What is this!?"** the Shadow rises from his seat, fuming mad and looking ready to beat our asses even here. **"I will not tolerate this assault on the castle of the King--!"**

I rip the mask off my face and Satanael looms over the proceedings, large and proud, spreading his six wings wide and pointing his rifle right at the Shadow. Like a scolded childhe sinks back into his seat, eyes wide and legs trembling.

Satanael fades and the real Kamoshida stirs from his slumber, prying himself up and off the ground, he sees his Shadow and he's obviously dazed, still prolly thinks this is all a dream. I kick him right in the face and he screams and cries and I feel the _crack_ when my heel meets his nose again and he screams, " Wh-who are you...!? S-someone, help me!"

But no one will, no one's gonna stop me from kicking him in his stomach and shoving my boot between his jaw and his collarbone, and as he chokes and suffocates Takamaki pulls a gun to his head.

I say something quippy and the _fear_ in his eyes is so utterly beyond anything I could have ever wanted.  "We will make you lose everything. The fame'll go down the drain. At least one of your parents will probably kill themselves out of the shame. This will follow you until the day you die, and no one will ever let you forget it."

His eyes blaze with fury and he finds it in himself to rise up out of his seat again, **"How _dare_ you!?"**

I lift my foot off Kamoshida's neck and he coughs and splutters and his purple face starts going back to normal. "Wha--wha, what, _what is this!?!_ "

"Touch me again and I blow your head off," shouts Takamaki.

He raises his arms, "W-wait! Wait, goddammit wait, no! Y-you can't _do this to me_!"

Takamaki presses the gun further into his skull, "Why not? We're stronger than you, so we can do whatever the hell we want. Isn't that how it works?"

"If you kill yourself, then I'll go after Shozo Kamoshida and Kirie Kamoshida." He and his Shadow share the same expression of horror, recognizing the names of their parents. "After them, I'll go after your other family members. I'll go after everyone you cherish. I'll make them know fear, just as you do. If you decide to take the easy way out, I will ruin everything and everyone you love."

"What is _wrong_ with you...?" mutters Sakamoto, as Kamoshida absolutely bricks his pants.

"Y-you're bluffing...you can't be--!"

" _497-1002, Kichijoji Minamicho, Musashino-shi, Tokyo_. Really. You're thirty years old and still living with your _parents_?"

At once he burns with anger, even as Takamaki keeps the gun to his forehead, " _I_ _DIDN'T MAKE HER JUMP--"_

Takamaki fires one round next to him, very nearly blowing off his arm. "Next shot goes between your legs."

"This is you. This is all _you_."

"Wh-what...!?"

"The school's your castle. And you're the king. This is all you are. At least until we tear it all down."

"I-I-I'm sorry, I--" suddenly he gets himself into a prostrating position, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please don't kill me...!"

Takamaki groans, "Stop crying, you--"

" _I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'll make up for everything, I'll pay for all Suzui's expenses, I'll turn myself in, just please, I swear_ \--"

_"I said shut up!"_

_"I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY! I'LL NEVER HURT ANYONE ELSE!! PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!"_

He stares at the ground for the longest time. When he sobs he's inconsolable. I can hear him through the noises he makes, asking forgiveness from his parents, from all his victims. He says names I've never heard before, and in the end he starts praying. He starts begging for God to show him mercy, hoping He's listening.

The King stares at us with an expression I can't discern. But his whole body trembles with anger coursing through him like never before. **"What do you want?"**

"Give us your Treasure, or we make you one head shorter."

The only thing stopping Kamoshida's Shadow from calling his soldiers here is Takamaki's trigger finger. He knows that by making any move against us, he puts himself and his whole castle at risk. And if we do kill Kamoshida, we'll most be leaving his corpse trapped in the limbo that is the Vortex World; there'll be no body, no evidence, nothing. I'll get off scot-free for my crime, the Palace will disappear, and everything Kamoshida's built for himself will be thrown to the winds.

So  I don't expect what he says next.

**"You won't shoot him."** And my hand trembles for a moment. But I keep myself still enough and keep my eyes on him. **"Everything you've done here...you're putting on airs. Trying too hard. Making yourself more than what you really are, and for what? To scare me?"**

I keep my eyes on him. He'll just rebut me if I say anything, twist my words. Can't let him get the upper hand. But that might not be my choice anymore.

** "You've come in here, trying to take refuge in your own audacity. Making such a big commotion, shoving a gun in _his_ face right in front of me, and for what? You're trying to scare me. You'd only do that, if you have nothing." **

"You think we won't do it?" I snarl at him.

** "Then do it. Shoot him. Right in his head." **

Kamoshida's pride is such that he considers himself a king, regardless of the size of his castle, the number of concubines he has, or the lands he's conquered. What makes a king, is the love his people have for him. But it's not so much love, for Kamoshida, as much as it is adoration. Idolization. Desire, want.

All of that gets taken away, he becomes nothing. The Treasure would be a symbol of his kingliness, his power, his authority. Something that stands above all other things.

"Sakamoto, break his leg."

"What?"

" _What!?"_

"Summon your Persona and break his goddamn leg _before I cut it off_!"

"The hell're you--!?"

"Sorry I'm late!" Cat shouts, pouncing into the scene and grabbing Kamoshida's foot. "And a one and a--"

"NO DON'T _NO I'M BEGGING YOU DON'T WAIT PLEASE STOP_ \-- _"_ _ KKRACK  _ "-- _AAAGHHH!!!_

In an instant Kamoshida's left leg is bent such that his foot could touch his waist. Sakamoto pukes again and Yoshizawa's screaming, even Takamaki rears back with the gun because _holy shit_ and I tell the Shadow, "Got three other limbs and all the time in the world."

" _WHY YOU GODLESS LITTLE--" KKRACK "--AAAGH!!"_

 _That_ was because he tried to grab the Cat. And he ended up getting his forearm made into a V shape.

"Ya can lock me up, but ya can't take my freedom!" Cat laughs, twirling his bent knee around like he's stirring a pot, and the guy screams and thrashes and cries and pleads--

"Stop it! _Stop it now_!!!" cries Yoshizawa.

"Not 'til he gives us the Treasure."

** "You could have killed me at any point. If you hated me that much you'd want to kill me, then why not just have me killed right now? Right here? Are you really gonna shoot me if I just say NO!? What's the point of trying to take my Treasure, even!? So you can still feel good about yourself!?" **

"Takamaki, shoot him."

"Wh-what...?"

"Shoot him low in the stomach."

"Takamaki, stop _!"_

_"Senpai, please don't!"_

"It's now or never, your words."

"I-I know, I —"

 ** "You won't shoot me, you** **—" **

"Shut up, shut up, shut the hell up everyone—"

"Takamaki, _please!!!_ "

"Senpai please no I'm _begging you!!!"_

The others grab her arms and she's not firing, not even looking at either of them and I see it now, I see her grip's shaky and how her teeth are chattering and how she knows she can't just stop _now_ \--

So I pull the shotgun outta her arms, "Kill you myself, you piece of —"

Shadow Kamoshida's arms balloon wide as his eyes begin to bulge out of his skull. I can't even pull the trigger before he whips an arm that's grown ten times its normal size at us, and it sends all of us far back.

Prying myself up from the floor I see the Treasure sitting atop his now gargantuan head. Spawning over him, in his rage. Because he's Kamoshida. He has to flaunt himself at every opportunity, make those opposing him feel as small as possible. It'll be his undoing.

The crown is golden, and its size is that of half a man. Ornamented with pearls and diamonds and rubies innumerable, a globe surmounted by a cross rests at the top. The moment my eyes meet it visions flash in my head of nude women, held down and tortured, their bodies strained and their wills thinned; it's when the women begin to look like Kana that I grit my teeth.

" _Treasure..._ " The Cat practically salivates on the spot.

The Shadow growls, **"I'll give you one last chance to turn back now. This is all a big misunderstanding."**

"Misunderstanding? _Misunderstanding_!?" Takamaki's first to rise to her feet. "You raped my best friend and God knows how many other girls and you kept it secret! _How can it be a misunderstanding!?_ "

**"Everyone around me kept it secret. Adults who wanna share in my accomplishments. Kids who have the drive to succeed. Hell, most o' my own students knowwhat I do behind the scenes, but they don't dare snitch. Some even offered their friends and girlfriends to me so that I'd give 'em a good recommendation. They all willingly protect me, so they all may profit from my glory."**

"Profit...?" Sakamoto couldn't believe his ears.

**"Too many stupid little kids in this world. So many who don't understand the compromises we adults make to become Kings and rulers. That includes _you five_ and that stupid little whore that jumped off the roof!"**

"We don't _need_ your permission to live our lives," Takamaki seethes. And we all rise up behind her. "I don't care what you've sacrificed or compromised. You're a sick goddamn demon and I'm gonna take that crown and smash it into a thousand pieces!"

**"You're absolutely right. I'm a demon. And this is Hell."**

His eyes are each as large as a small car, orange vortexes spiralling endlessly where his sclerae are supposed to be. His smile reaches from ear to ear and I see that he's gotten three rows of teeth, each tooth gnarled and serrated like that of a shark. His skin's become a feverish pink color, and he's grown the horns of a ram atop his head. He's got four arms, each as long as a bus and with callused fingers, and in each of his hands is a knife that's a person's height. He's completely nude as well, and where his genitals should be all I see is the color red; the warts and the lesions there simply overflow with blood, pus, or both, and pulsate as though there's more inside that wants to escape. Though he's muscular, I see that his stomach is strangely diminutive, giving the impression that his chest simply transitions into his waist. His long hair grows even longer, flowing out underneath his glowing crown.

He's become so massive that I merely measure up to his belly button by comparison. Throughout this time I hear a name burn in my mind, another demon, surely; _Asmodeus, Asmodeus, Asmodeus._

He then picks up the broken and bloody Kamoshida in his hands _—_ the man screams and cries and wracks his body around while tears gush from his eyes, "No, no God, wait, _no,_ _NO PLEASE NO, SOMEONE HELP ME, MAMA, MAMAAA_ _—"_

Asmodeus stuffs him in his mouth, swallowing him whole; his gut bulges with two hundred pounds of rapist and he roars with pride and hunger. 

**"I am a Shadow, the true self.** **Those who dare threaten the King deserve a fate worse than death! You want my Treasure, _YOU PRY IT FROM MY CORPSE_!"**

"Dibs on the crown! _Mercurius_!"

The Two-Faced God spirals out the bobble head and charges at the crown immediately, but Asmodeus' two massive hands grip it and tear it in two, crumpling it into what would otherwise be a ball, but instead of shrinking in agony it shouts _"I WILL TAKE WHAT **IS MINE, FALSE KING--"**_

Asmodeus charges directly _at me_ , drooling blood out of his mouth, delirious and mad and desperate—the madness in his eyes is familiar and his tongue laps up as he tries to reach me with his arms and bite down on my skull like a jawbreaker ** _—_**

"Cendrillon!"

Her Persona twirls into the air and opens her arms, a blinding white light searing into Asmodeus' large eyes--

**" _—_ _AAAAIIII'LL KILL YOU_ , I'LL KILL EVERY SINGLE LAST ONE OF YOU, I'LL EAT OUT YOUR KIDNEYS AND YOUR LUNGS AND YOUR HEARTS _—_ "**

" _Salome!_ "

**"I'LL GET MY HANDS ALL OVER YOUR MOTHERS YOUR FATHERS YOUR SISTERS YOUR CHILDREN _KILL YOU EAT YOU STAB YOU RAPE YOU —"_**

Salome flies from Takamaki's head, her robes flowing in waves as she soars upon Asmodeus' head, grips the sides of the crown and tugs. Asmodeus, still blind, tries raising his massive hands up to the crown, I put my hand to my mask but before I can do anything I hear Sakamoto shout " _Blackbeard_!!!"

Sakamoto's Persona spears its bowsprit right through Asmodeus' head like an arrow to an apple. Goes right through the eye and out the back of the head. We see all manner of fluids burst, his eye popping like a balloon; Asmodeus reels back, maddeningly afraid and screaming about how he'll have our heads, how he'll end our lives, how we're monsters, how we all deserve to be flayed and raped and tortured till we're seventy. In agony, Asmodeus' body flounders but Blackbeard shoves the face down into the ground and keeps it there as Salome keeps pulling.

"S-senpai...!"

"God _damn_ you, Hikawa _—_ "

"It won't come off," cries Takamaki. "She's trying with everything she's got!"

"Cat!" I shout. "Treasure doesn't need to be stolen, right!? As long as it's gone, so will the distortion disappear!?"

"Yeah, but, honestly I'd like to keep it intact as much as _—_ "

" _SATANAEL!_ "

Everybody's keeping it still. And as my Persona flourishes into the air, as Yoshizawa and Sakamoto cry out to me to just _stop_ , as Salome and Blackbeard flee the scene I have the rifle pointed right at the crown that's far too big for its own good  _—_

** BLAM **

_—_ but he raises his head at just the wrong time.

The crown flies off twenty feet behind him, as does a sizable portion of his face.

 _ **"MINE MINE MINE,"**_ And he tries, even with the gaping hole in his skull he tries to get it back, he turns his back on all of us and tries to crawl over to the crown, **"My Treasure, My Precious, Give Her Back To Me, I _WANT HER BACK —_"** but Blackbeard _stabs him through the neck_ and keeps him pinned to the ground. **" _—AAAGHHH!!!_**

"Oh my _God_ , senpai _—_ "

" _I'm sick of this shit_! Takamaki!"

**" _NOOOOOOO!!!!"_**

Salome picks up the crown, now dented from the blast, lifts it up high over her head, and throws it down in a motion similar to drying off a towel. Again and again and again. When she doesn't smash it, she burns it and when she doesn't burn it she tears it from the seams. Asmodeus doesn't scream as she destroys the Treasure. He doesn't throw his body two and fro, nor does he weep, nor does he plead. He watches it happen, watches as Takamaki's Persona rips and smashes and plunders the Treasure right before his very eyes. Takamaki herself doesn't smile, she doesn't laugh, she doesn't gloat, she doesn't even let herself see what her Persona does.

She just clutches at her shoulders, hating being alive.

Asmodeus' body begins heaving. Heaving very heavily; growling and hissing throaty noises.

"Wh-whoa...!"

Blackbeard pries himself away from the neck as Asmodeus coughs and splutters, and in one loud _HRRRKK_ he expels himself from his stomach. Kamoshida's covered in all sorts of liquids that aren't worth describing. His leg and arm are still broken, and though his eyes are open his body's practically made of stone.

"Is...is he dead...?" asks Yoshizawa.

Cat goes near the seeming-corpse. "Nah. He's breathing. Not much more than that, but hey. Take what you can get."

It lays a paw on Kamoshida's broken arm and broken leg, and within seconds the bones _snap_ back into place, along with the muscle and the veins and the arteries, as if they'd never been broken at all.

"What the hell...?"

"Been practicing healing spells," it says, blowing on its claws. "Good thing none o' you guys needed it."

Asmodeus' body starts shrinking. Two of its arms sink back into his flesh. The lesions and the diseased skin sears itself back into shape. Skin returns to its original color. Soon enough Kamoshida's Shadow has returned to what it once was, what it's always been.

It collapses to its knees. **"You don't understand. You could never understand. All those goddamned hyenas forcing their expectations on me. Everything I did, I did for _them_...what was so wrong about wanting a _reward_ for that?"**

At that, Takamaki finds it in herself to approach him. "Now, you're making excuses. Like you've always been."

**"I'm nothing without my Treasure. I've always _been_ nothing without my Treasure. Go ahead and finish me off. My real self will go down with me. Just like you wanted."**

Takamaki narrows her eyes, "What _I_ want...?"

**"You have that right. You've won."**

"It's your call," Cat says, folding its arms. "Let him live, or finish him off."

She could have Salome burn him alive in an instant. She could wipe him and his Shadow off the face of the world, and not a single soul would ever be able to tell. When she stares him down, so coldly and strongly, we all think she will.

"I want you to admit everything. I want you to toss your whole goddamn life down the drain. And that can't happen if you die."

**"My life is over. Kill me. What the hell am I supposed to do now...?"**

"I don't care. You _live_. You live with this hanging over your head for the rest of your life. And you die a disgrace."

"What a kind girl," Cat smiles.

He hangs his head low. A blue light forms around his body, and within moments he dissolves into glowing ash, scattering to the winds. Suddenly the walls of the castle tremble, the stones shake loose, the pillars crack and collapse.

"What the hell!?" cries Sakamoto.

"Time to go."

"Wh-what do we do!?" Yoshizawa starts freaking out.

"Don't worry!" Cat strikes a pose, "Morgana, _transform_!"

Leaps into the air, comes back down a bus.

"You _for real_!?"

"Can't teleport back to the entry way outside of a safe zone! We'll have to escape the ol' fashioned way!"

I grab the real Kamoshida by the scruff of his neck, "Let's get the hell outta here."

* * *

The second we make it back to the alleyway in the real world, Sakamoto doesn't waste any time.

_WHACK_

Pain blasts across my left cheek, and the only thing cushioning me is the brick wall.

"Gonna make you piss red for the next three months--" He raises an arm up again, but Yoshizawa pulls him back. "--lemme go!"

"He's not worth it."

Sakamoto just growls and pulls his arm away, keeping his eyes on me, "Why? J-just... _why_!?"

"I'm sorry for terrorizing the pedophile rapist. Happy now?"

"I'll be _happy_ when I bash your brains against a goddamn wall--"

"Lookee here, Mister _I-Don't-Give-a-Shit-What-Happens-to-Kamoshida_ loses it when something bad might actually happen to Kamoshida. "

"Shut up, _shut the hell up--"_

"It's as if he rushed into this without really thinking it through. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Senpai," Yoshizawa steps in. "That's not fair. And you know it. We wanted him to _confess_ his crimes. There was always a risk of him dying, but _now_ we could've just--"

"We were gonna have to fight his Shadow one way or another. Someone with his goddamn ego wouldn't just let us _leave_ with the Treasure."

" _You didn't have to torture him_!!"

"I didn't. But hell. Can't say it didn't feel good."

Her jaw drops, "You're _just_ like him. You do horrible things but it's _okay to you_ as long as it makes you feel good, huh!? That makes it _so_ much better."

"You know what _does_ make it better?" I narrow my eyes, approaching her slowly enough to cause her to back away. "The fact that the world's got one less asshole running around doing whatever the hell he wants."

Sakamoto grabs me by the scruff of my neck, "And the guy who took him out was _another piece of shit_ who goes around doing whatever the hell he wants!"

" _GUYS_!" Takamaki cries. "Shut up for a second."

Kamoshida's body is laying in the heaps of garbage bags and shit. Eyes closed, barely even breathing. Takamaki leans in, but not close enough such that she'd smell the stench. "He's snoring. Meaning he's still alive."

"Still alive, for now at least," Cat says suddenly, licking itself. "You'll see a change in the next few days or so. Either he commits career suicide or actual suicide. Whatever works."

"And what was up with _you_ back in the Palace, huh?" Sakamoto grabs him by the collar. "What the hell was all about snapping his legs and breaking his arm--!?"

"I healed him up, didn't I? Any confession he makes will be valid now."

He drops it, "That's not the point. God, it's like neither o' you get it. Why do you have to be _told_ that it's wrong to--?"

I don't know why I snap at him, right then and there.

"Sakamoto. You can sit there and cry about how good a person you are and how shitty a person I am for the rest of your life, if you want. I don't care. But take pride in the fact that you finally did _something_ worth a damn in all your sixteen years of living. Be satisfied you've come this far. At the end of the day, you helped take out a sick rapist son of a bitch that nobody in the school knew shit about. You did more for them in a few days than they'll ever do for each other their whole lives. Whatever comfort you can derive from today, take it. Because no matter what happens next, life goes on. And no matter how much of a monster they may or may not view Kamoshida as by the end of it, to them you'll still be _you_. Not the hero who took out an evil King--just _you_."

When I unhand him, he's completely lost the will to say anything. Looks like he's on the verge of tears, despite the scowl crossing his eyes. He shuffles his bag over his shoulder and runs out the alleyway, Yoshizawa following him close behind. She wasn't angry, wasn't even disappointed, when she turned to face me before heading out. Whatever look she had then, I knew it was enough to tell me that she doesn't want to speak to me ever again.

"That was harsh," whistles the cat.

"Like it matters."

"True," it turns to face me. "As much as I'd have liked to obtain the Treasure, I'd say the mission was an overall success. It was nice working with you again, Kazuya."

"Same. Now leave me alone, for the rest of my life."

It shrugs, "Alright."

Again, it leaps upon the steps of a fire escape and climbs, slithering into the shadows of Tokyo's rooftops.

"You didn't have to treat him like that," Takamaki sighs. "Ryuji's a good guy, deep down. He leaps before he looks most of the time, but he's more decent than most."

"I know. That's exactly why he should stay as far away from me as possible." I eye the snoring half-corpse lying in garbage, "What do you wanna do with _him_?"

Takamaki shrugs, "I don't wanna do _anything_ with him."

"Stupid question."

"It's alright. You wanna grab a bite somewhere before heading home?"

"Bad idea."

"You sure?"

I narrow my eyes at her, "I've a criminal record."

"I've heard. We're in the same class. But in the end, you helped me take Kamoshida down. Least lemme treat you out this once."

...oh, what the hell? "Sure."

* * *

Big Bang Burger, Shibuya.

"How's that spot where he punched you?"

I bite down into a few fries. "I'll live. Are you okay? First day I summoned a Persona, I felt terrible after the fact. Slept for like, ten hours."

She sighs, "Honestly...I'm thinking of just calling in sick for tomorrow. Maybe even for like, two more days. I feel like I could just stay in bed forever."

"That's about right."

"How'd you ever even find out about Palaces?" she sips from a large plastic cup of coke.

"Someone I knew. Terrible things happened to her. Honestly don't really like talking about it much."

She nods, "Sorry for bringing it up."

"It's fine."

"Why did you decide to fight Kamoshida?"

I smirk, "What, just 'cause I'm a criminal, I can't stand up to assholes who try puttin' their boots on my face?"

"You're a new student. Palaces seem like a sensitive issue for you. They said a whole lot of rumors about you. In and out our class. It's not like you had an obligation to help out. So why did you?"

I shake my head. "I hate him. And people like him. Besides, he leaked my record."

"He _did_?"

"Well, he had that Nishima kid do it. Would've preferred it if nobody knew. But whatever."

"I guess that's as good a reason as any," she sighs, and I actually chuckle a little at that. "What?"  


"It's nothing."

"You sure?"

"It's just... Suzui asked the same thing, when I'd questioned her if the volleyball team was being abused. When I told her the answer, she also said _that's as good a reason as any._ "

Takamaki smiles sadly. Her eyes are hazy and blank as she stares down at her tray, "I never apologized to you for barging in like that. She said you were trying to help her."

"She did?"

"I asked her, _with what?_ She couldn't even look at me. She just pushed me away and ran so fast I couldn't catch up."  She hangs her head low and her hazy eyes grow dull, staring far past the table, past me, past the whole world. I remember a girl with green eyes, her fingers digging into my hand as she tells me how much she wants me out of her life.

"When I first spoke with her, she asked if I was the transfer student from class D. I told her yes, because there was no benefit to pretending otherwise. She said I shouldn't let the rumors get to me. She helped with a similar situation before. Her best friend gets misunderstood often, because of her looks."

Takamaki's expression is frozen. The look she has in her eyes, I can only recognize as the same as I had after I found Kana in my bathroom.

"Do with it whatever you'd like. I'm not gonna tell you how to feel about yourself. But for what it's worth...I don't think she could possibly ever hate you."

She doesn't say a word. Without even finishing her food, she rises up from her seat, cupping her mouth. She's barely able to hold herself together, even as she leaves the restaurant. Through the windows, I see her run to the subway, melting into the crowds passing her by. And for her own sake as well as mine, she ought to forget that she'd ever spoken with me.

As I walk home, a droning noise reverberates throughout my head, louder and louder with every step I'd take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Added the second half of this chapter in post because I was stupid for leaving it half-finished in the first place.
> 
> Not gonna lie, I felt super uncomfortable writing for Kazuya these last few chapters. For as much as I love reading about morally ambiguous characters, it's certainly not easy to write one out. You gotta reach into a part of yourself that you probably wouldn't even wanna admit *is* a part of you :P
> 
> Writing him, I took a lot of inspiration from anti-heroic characters like The Punisher, Arthur Morgan, the Comedian, and Billy Butcher. Those characters can be pretty over-the-top in their own way but they always come from a real, dark place. Hell, there were many times in my life where I, and people I knew, acted exactly like Kazuya. Whether because we were in a bad mood or just because we could. We always felt horrible about it way too long after the fact.
> 
> Anyway. Will write out two to four chapters before taking a break from this story for a bit lol. Wanna get back to writing for P3.


	19. At the End of the Day You'll Pursue Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"My name is Lucy, Kendrick, you introduced me Kendrick_  
>  _Usually I don't do this, but I see you and me Kendrick_  
>  _Lucy give you no worries, Lucy got million stories_  
>  _About these rappers I came after when they was boring_  
>  _Lucy gone fill your pockets, Lucy gone move your mama out of Compton_  
>  _Inside the gi-gantic mansion like I promised_  
>  _Lucy just want your trust and loyalty, avoiding me?_  
>  _It's not so easy, I'm at these functions accordingly_  
>  _Kendrick, Lucy don't slack a minute, Lucy work harder_  
>  _Lucy gone call you even when Lucy know you love your Father, I'm Lucy_  
>  _I loosely heard prayers on your first album truly_  
>  _Lucy don't mind 'cause at the end of the day you'll pursue me_  
>  _Lucy go get it, Lucy not timid, Lucy up front_  
>  _Lucy got paper work on top of paper work_  
>  _I want you to know that Lucy got you, all your life I watched you_  
>  _And now you all grown up then sign this contract if that's possible"_
> 
> _\- Kendrick Lamar, _For Sale? (Interlude)__

**4 / 15 / 2016**

Heard people like him get the worst treatment of them all, in prison.

Murderers and thieves and all other kinds of sickos lie behind bars, but some of them have daughters. Some of them have families. Most of them have some standards. Beating up a kiddie-rapist is _one_ way to relieve stress, I suppose. I can see it now.

Kamoshida getting battered in his cell, kicked around in the courtyard. Bones broken, paralyzed to the point of pissing and drinking through a straw. Crying every night, the remorse and the daily beatings taking their toll.

I'll never have the kind of satisfaction I had with Kamoshida's Palace. That visceral, gut-wrenching feeling of robbing all his power away. Seeing Takamaki put the gun to his head gave me a high no other drug could. Just thinking of that fear in his eyes, the way he sobbed and begged for forgiveness. I could've stood there and watched it forever, God be willing.

Yet.

In the end. For all my bluster towards Sakamoto and Yoshizawa, something's nagging at me.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back-what _happened_ to you?" Maruki drops his papers and runs over to me, examining the bruise on my cheek.

"I tripped on the way home."

Pulls a skeptical kinda pout, "Do you really expect me to just _accept_ that?"

"No. I don't. But it's the truth."

"You're not being bullied at school, are you?"

I chuckle, "Hardly."

Maruki sighs, "What exactly happened...?"

"I'd like to have a counselling session with you."

"What?"

"I've been pretty stressed out lately."

"I...I can see that," he says, suddenly rummaging throughout his cupboards. "Just give me a second here..."

"It isn't that bad, you don't have to-"

"Just accept the help." He comes back with a roll of bandages, a piece of cotton, and topical antibiotics. "Sit down at the table."

Reluctantly, I pull up a seat and sit myself down. "I know I haven't been very forthright with you. Sorry to drag you into my problems."

"They assigned me to help you. It's no hardship. After this, I'll be cooking some beef teriyaki."

"I'm not feeling particularly hungry tonight-"

"Eat, you're skin and bones."

"I ate out just a bit earlier with," _a friend?_ "an acquaintance."

"At Big Bang Burger, I'm assuming?"

"How'd you know?"

"It was a guess. One of the only major restaurants in the vicinity. Besides, you have sesame seeds on the edge of your mouth. Let me make you some real food. We can talk after you've settled."

Takes me a lot more effort than I think it should just to say, "Thank you."

* * *

Dinner ends at about eight PM and Maruki has me sat down on the couch of his living room. He's sitting on a stool, across from me. Pen and paper in his hands.

"Just going to ask you a few questions. The answers, though, depend on you. I won't pressure you. You control the flow of this conversation."

"Do I really?"

"Yes, you do. We'll discuss whatever you'd like. If there's nothing...then we can just talk about our day, I suppose. Or not talk at all. It's all up to you."

"Else I be thrown into some juvie rehab center or something."

"That's true."

"Do you think I'm crazy?"

"I never thought you were."

I chuckle, "Then why'd the judges say I needed therapy?"

"First off, that's a misconception. Many times, people who go to therapy can't be called crazy at all. Having a mental disorder doesn't automatically categorize them as insane. Sometimes people who take therapy aren't even diagnosed with a disorder at all; they're just viciously overwhelmed, and the session is a way to get themselves reoriented. Whether you've been diagnosed with something or not, therapy's a helpful and healthy way for people to work through their emotions and stresses. But back to the point—I did read up on your case. No, I don't think you're crazy. I do think, however, that what had happened—"

"Please don't bring up Kana."

"Okay. I won't say a word about her."

"I'm willing to talk about Shido. But not Kana."

"I promise."

"Good."

"Why did you assume I'd think you were crazy?"

"You must have read the report."

"I can't determine your state of mind unless you tell me what it was like."

" _My state of mind_. You really wanna know what it was like?"

"I'm ready to listen, if you're ready to share."

"Honestly? There's something wrong with me."

"Why do you think so?"

"I just snapped. I wasn't thinking straight. The second I saw him I wanted him to...," _die_? " get away from them. I needed to stop him somehow and I just let myself go. I completely lost all self-control."

"You wanted to protect them."

My left hand begins shaking as I clear my throat, "No. No. I don't know if that's what I wanted, not entirely."

"I mean, it would make sense," Maruki shrugs. "Your girlfriend and her mother were being harassed. Anyone would be furious enough that they'd want to try and stop it."

She gave me the same look that Sakamoto and Yoshizawa had given me earlier in today. "I wanted to punish him."

"That's what you were thinking?" he asks. "The whole time?"

"I don't know."

"Can you elaborate?"

"I wanted to save them. He'd already gotten his hands on them by this point and I wanted to stop him before he'd have been able to do anything more. But at the same time, I saw what he was doing and I hated him, I hated him so much a part of me thinks that I hated him more than I wanted to protect them. If I actually wanted to protect them, then maybe I wouldn't have gone so far."

"Or maybe it's because you wanted to protect them that you did what you did. That's not to say it's an excuse; you still violently assaulted a man to near-death in the middle of the street. But still. I want to give you some credit here."

I make a _hhhh_ noise, teeth chattering a little, "I don't think I deserve credit."

"Why not?"

I close my eyes and sigh, "It felt good."

"It felt good?"

And I glare at him, I glare at his startled expression and I write out, "It felt like a dream, like I was somewhere else watching it happen."

"Like you were somewhere else? Can you explain what that…I don't know, what you experienced?"

A dull buzzing sensation hits me in the brain at this moment. I'm taken all the way back to that night.

"It was like I was watching myself, from a cloud up in the sky. Like I was so far away from it all, too far away to stop myself. But even now, it's like...I think even if I were there, I wouldn't have stopped myself at all."

"In my view it can be chalked up to stress; in the heat of the moment you disassociated. It's not an abnormal phenomenon. Unless this has happened before?"

And I let myself think. I think really firmly. I disregard all thought of Kana and Shido, ignore that time I blacked out shortly after Sakamoto summoned Blackbeard for the first time. "I think this did happen once before."

"When?"

"When my mother died. I felt...angry. I felt sad. Both the same time."

"Angry and sad. Why angry?"

"Mom and Dad conceived me out of wedlock. Their parents were old fashioned, so they viewed them and me with shame."

"Oh."

"So they didn't even visit Mom when she was sick, didn't call back or message them even once cuz I'm a bastard and I hated them, I hated them so much I wanted to find them and make them know how much I hated them-"

"Calm down," he tells me, "you're shaking."

I am. I only realize it after he's put a hand on my shoulder.

I seethe, I grit my teeth and breathe heavy as my gravelly voice bursts out, "I-I wanted to-"

"Don't talk," he hands me a glass of water, "please. Don't push yourself."

I drink the glass. After I finish, he raises his brow at me. "Do you want to continue, or should we reschedule-?"

" _I hated them_. But Mom told me she loved me anyway."

"Do you mind telling me exactly what she said?"

My lips tremble a little and I begin laughing, "You are everything I could have ever wanted my son to be."

He smiles a little sadly. "That's beautiful."

"Then my head turned numb or something, I dunno. I felt and heard a buzzing noise. Then it was like I was looking down on myself, grasping my Mom's hand . It didn't feel weird at all. T here was no transition. It just happened. It only stopped when Dad walked in."

"So…you seem to dissociate in times of stress."

"Isn't that a little cause for concern?"

"It's not uncommon for people to dissociate when extremely stressed out, or when faced with something traumatic. Which…considering the circumstances behind both instances you've mentioned, no one could begrudge you for that."

"Pretty sure that's a sign I've got something wrong with me."

"Dissociative disorder does exist. It's also a symptom of anxiety. But I think I'd like to trace back around to what you'd said previously. While you dissociated when it came to Shido…you said you felt good?"

"I only realized how I felt afterwards. While I was being interrogated I remembered what I'd done to Shido and how good it felt. I wanted to punish him. I needed him to stay down."

"Do you regret it?"

"That's the thing. No. Not at all. Even up to now."

"It scares you. That you don't regret it."

I exhale then, "Most of me doesn't regret it. But every time I think back on it, I feel like a monster."

"I don't think you are."

"Only a monster would do what I did and feel what I felt, feel what I feel now."

"I really don't think so."

"What would you have done?"

He takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. Then he clears his throat. "Do you mind if I share a personal experience with you?"

I narrow my eyes at him, "Go ahead."

He smiles a little, "My girlfriend…for a long time, she was stuck in a catatonic depression."

I don't write. I just look at him, letting him continue.

"Her name was Rumi. She and I, we…," he purses his lips. "We knew each other for the longest time. Our friends would always tease us for being high school sweethearts. We were together all the way into our sophomore year in college. But...partway through the year, her parents were killed. Right in front of her eyes."

My own eyes widen, "That's horrible."

"A burglar had broken into their house in the dead of night—it all happened so fast. Rumi was traumatized, too far gone for anyone to help her. Didn't even look at me, wouldn't respond to me. Even if I was speaking directly to her and sat right next to her. And a part of me—a really, really big part of me—for the longest time, wanted to find the people responsible and bring them to justice."

"Were they ever found?"

"Yes. But it had taken a while. The longer the search took, the more furious I became. There was a time where I wanted nothing more than to find them and get revenge. For my girlfriend, her parents…myself. I was drowning in anger. But I had to tend to Rumi as well. So when push came to shove, I decided I'd put her first, above all else."

"How is she now?"

"She's recovered. Inasmuch as she could. But we've broken up."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm not," he smiles. "She's much, much happier now. And in the end, that's all that matters to me. But I told you this because I want you to know…that I've been where you were. And I thought up much of the same things you did. I wanted to punish them for what they did to my girlfriend and her parents. But I felt the way I did in the first place because I loved Rumi that much, and couldn't stand what they did to her. Much of the same can be said about you."

I chuckle at him, "I highly doubt you'd bash their skulls in concrete and feel good about it after the fact. That's not you."

He smirks, though not without wincing, "You never know what you'll do unless you're thrown out there, in the thick of it, and you have to make a decision."

"And that's why you think I'm not a monster?"

"I think that you've got many unresolved feelings and issues that need to be addressed. But no, I don't think you're a monster. I do think, however, that unless we talk about these things, it'll cause you trouble later down the line."

I smirk, "Look how much trouble I'm in now."

"Hikawa-kun, you put yourself down a lot."

"Don't you think I should?"

"No. This is about helping you come to terms with yourself. All aspects of yourself, for good and for ill."

"I'm a selfish asshole."

"Why do you think so?"

"Kana wanted me to help her with her studies, and I only decided to help her after she revealed to me she had an illegitimate child."

"So, you could relate."

"Yeah. But that's me in a microcosm, only get involved when you're invested or can relate to the situation. Selfish asshole."

"I wouldn't say you're selfish. You're self-centered."

I narrow my eyes at him, "What's the difference?"

"You wanted to help her because you could relate to her circumstances. And that night, with Shido, you wanted to save her because she was special to you. But you're not _selfish_ —if you were, you wouldn't have tried to save her at all. You'd have just run away and waited out the storm."

Something in me makes me laugh, but it comes out as guttural noises that sound like snarls and goddamn, it hurts. "I didn't save her. Not even in the slightest."

"Do you want to talk about her now, or…?"

To hell with it. "I couldn't help her at all. Not with her mother. Not with her daughter. I'm a failure."

"I want you to know that you did everything you could-"

"I tried so goddamned hard, it didn't work and I made it worse."

"What did you do?"

God help me I've gotta let this out somehow, I have to let someone know what I've done, even if they don't believe me— "I could've saved her, I tried to save her but it didn't work, and now because of me she's dead, she's dead and there's shit all I can do about it."

"You can't blame yourself for her death."

And I groan at him while razors open up in my throat, "I should."

"She made her choice," he tells me, leaning closer. "Look at me, Kazuya. There was nothing you could've done."

He's wrong, of course. In fact, things might've been better if I'd done literally nothing. I chose to dive into her Palace. I chose to destroy that creature that wore her skin.

I chose it all.

He leans back in his seat. "What did you try to do?"

What the hell am I doing? "You won't get it," I clutch my head and hang it low. "Nobody-no one can know."

"Do you wish you could forget her?"

And I tear myself up to face him. "Wha-?"

"If you had the choice. Would you forget her?"

I shake my head, "Things would've been better off if she'd never met me."

"But would you ever want to forget her?"

"No."

"No?"

"I never want to forget her. If I do, she died for nothing."

"Why? The memories are causing you so much grief and pain."

I nearly rise up out of my chair there and then. But I look him right in the eyes.

"If I forget her—" I say, with a thorny voice, "—she died for nothing."

And he closes his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Kamoshida was a sick bastard who deluded himself into thinking he was some kinda King, just so that he'd never need to feel the guilt gnawing at his heart.

But Yoshizawa was absolutely right.

We still had time. Kamoshida would've spread his rumors about us around, but they'd have likely been shut up if he were to admit his crimes. Delinquent kids being assholes matters less than teachers being serial rapists. Shujin's PR team and the teachers'd likely be dealing with media blowback, more than they could possibly care about the criminal transfer and his partners in crime.

In the end, the reason I barged into his Palace and threatened his life had nothing to do with running short of time, or wanting to get rid of a social cancer as fast as possible.

It had everything to do with me being free of all the Vortex World sooner rather than later.

And because of that...I've done virtually everything I promised Kana I'd never do again, up to and including _maybe_ killing another Palace Ruler. All in my first week of school.

"I think I'd rather continue this conversation another time," I say to Maruki.

He gets up off his seat and lays a hand on my shoulder, "You should get some rest tonight. Care for some cookies before bed? Bought them from a Triple Seven a few hours ago."

I shake my head, "No, thank you."

"Alright, then."

"I'm very grateful you were willing to listen." Despite you being mandated by court.

He just smiles warmly, "My doors are always open."

* * *

All men should be free to say and do and live as they please. But none of us is free, not really. Even if we've got all the money and power and prestige in the world, we're still trapped by _ourselves_. I didn't know what that meant until earlier this year.

We're willing to remove others' freedoms, just to have a chance to live our lives in any way we see fit. Is that the freedom I wanted? Yes, yes, I suppose that is. That's what I wanted, from the beginning. And at the end of the day, I guess I still want it. But what does the world get out of that? People like Kamoshida. And people like _me_.

Seeing Kamoshida in his own Palace, pissing himself and bawling like a baby, I didn't really give a damn if anybody was free or not. He found his freedom in girls and gold medals and blind words of praise from people that didn't even really care about him.

I found my freedom in punishment.

"The ideal is beautiful," the man in the purple suit says to me, "precisely because it's often too good to be true. Isn't it, Emancipator?"

It's a nice little _idea_ , to think of the plucky rebels using their wit and intelligence to rail against an irredeemable and destructive establishment. But then you take a look at the 20th century.

The ideal is crushed when you read of Robespierre ordering the death of his own allies the second he believed they stood in opposition to him. Lenin's Bolsheviks seizing power, and painting the atrocities they committed thereafter as necessities to their vision. Stalin justifying the deaths of millions with the notion that they stole from the people and were class enemies. The Khmer Rouge killing so many perceived enemies of the state that the skulls of their victims can fill up a house.

You read these things and you wonder how they could _hate_ so many people so easily.

Yoshizawa & Sakamoto fought, as hard as they could, to ensure the minimum probability of Kamoshida dying from a change of heart. As much as they believed he needed to be stopped, and as willing as they were to risk his life, they remained moral enough to want him _alive_ , to answer for his crimes as much as possible.

But _I_ just wanted him gone. And I wanted him gone because I'd never be able to walk the halls of that school, knowing someone like him remained unpunished. I wanted him gone so badly I enabled a girl mourning the loss of her best friend to become just as much of a monster as I am.

And my only regret, really, is that he didn't die.

"You don't regret how you've driven away those who stood with you against Asmodeus?"

No. I shouldn't have been a condescending prick towards them. But they shouldn't waste their time on me. They've likely developed Kingdoms just from proximity to my own toxic behavior.

"I doubt it. But you'll just have to check for sure with the Navigator."

You doubt it?

"If they bore Kingdoms, they would have all agreed to your plan in a heartbeat. Their Candelabrums would manifest out of a desire to steal Suguru Kamoshida's Treasure. Yet they chose restraint. Even the girl who lost her friend hesitated to kill him, when the time came. At the end of the day, they would have much rather settled things without causing him so much harm that he would kill himself."

Despite what they've said previously.

"Men often say things without fully understanding what their statements entail."

So they likely have no Kingdoms, nor Candelabrums.

"I'd wager, no. Whatever desire they bear in their heart, whether for justice or revenge, is tempered by their willingness to remain true to their morals."

We're all so fickle. We say we want something and then turn our backs the second we decide it's too much effort.

"In all fairness, _many_ people don't choose what they desire. After all; you didn't _choose_ to fall in love with that Kana girl, did you? In your youth, you didn't even _choose_ to become so attracted to ideas of self-determination. Your desires then grabbed ahold of you without your conscious knowledge. But once you achieved a direct understanding of them, you chose to enshrine them within your heart. And even now, after everything that's happened, they remain there still."

You say you're me.

"Only because it's true."

Doesn't that mean, if _you're_ telling me these things, I'm making up the answers to my own questions?

"Or it could mean you had the answers inside of you all along. Why didn't you kill him, when you had the chance? There were multiple times you could have done so, easily."

Because if I did then Yoshizawa and Sakamoto would hound me for the rest of my life about how _I_ killed him, when I warned them of all the risks.

But that's another lie.

It's because every time I'd step into his Palace I'd remember Kana. I'd remember seeing that seven-headed beast that she said was me. The hundreds of walking dead in the nuclear holocaust.

I'd remember holding her in my arms. How cold she'd been. The last words she'd spoken to me. I'd see her, in the corners of my room or in the crevices of my brain. She makes me remember what I did to her. Telling me that if I ever were to repeat what I did to her, to anybody else, I'll keep seeing her until the day I die.

That I'll _never_ be free of what I've done.

That's why, whatever happens to Kamoshida, I'll forget that you ever existed and live my goddamned life as far away from this Vortex World shit as possible. I'll die lonely and unremembered and nobody's gonna attend my funeral. I'll burn in Hell forever for my sins and everything you want me to be will fade to nothing.

And you'll find another stupid piece of shit to be your stooge.

"Remember that I came to you because you called me. You make such grandiose promises, but words mean nothing. Only the soul is everlasting. And like it or not, yours is mine. For thou art I, and I am thou."

* * *

.

.

.

**4 / 22 / 2016**

Kamoshida called in sick after that day, cited health issues. Hasn't been seen since.

Until today. From the very same place Shiho Suzui had jumped from, a week ago. With a megaphone.

_"I HAVE REPEATEDLY DONE THINGS THAT WERE UNBECOMING OF A TEACHER!!!"_

Everybody scampers off to the windows and we see him, we see him standing right on the edge of the roof. His eyes are manic and bloodshot, he's sweating profusely; he's not wearing any gym uniform or teacher's clothes, just a shitty wifebeater and white boxers. He looks like every time he's tried to sleep the past week nightmares would wake him up.

The whole crowd clamors in curiosity, many whipping out their phones and wondering what the hell's going on. Even the teachers, who had in the past called for the students to remain seated, were stuck mouth agape, not knowing what they could possibly do next.

_"VERBALLY ABUSING STUDENTS, PHYSICALLY ABUSING MY TEAM, AND SEXUALLY HARASSING FEMALE STUDENTS! I AM THE REASON SHIHO SUZUI TRIED TO KILL HERSELF!!!"_

I see Sakamoto in the crowd, looks like he's gotten physically ill, like he doesn't wanna be anywhere near here, but Takamaki on the other hand bears no emotion whatsoever. No fear or sadness or rage. Nothing simmering beneath her hollow eyes.

 _"I THOUGHT OF THIS SCHOOL AS MY OWN_ _CASTLE!!!_ " he shouts, getting audibly shaken to the point where his voice cracks. " _THERE WERE STUDENTS I SENTENCED TO EXPULSION, SIMPLY BECAUSE I DIDN'T LIKE THEM!!! I AM TRULY SORRY FOR PUTTING INNOCENT YOUTHS THROUGH SUCH HORRIBLE ACTS AND I--"_ tears pour down his eyes suddenly, gushing down relentlessly, "--I know of only one way to atone for what I've done."

Unlike Shiho Suzui, he falls headfirst.

It's chaos then as the whole school runs amok with horror and laughter and shock and fear, everyone rushing to the courtyard after a pool of blood forms beneath Kamoshida's cracked skull. Sakamoto keeps his eyes on the window and looks like he can't even breathe. Takamaki retains that dull, impassive expression, even as she marches back to the classroom.

I can't believe it.

Even when he tries to kill himself, he has to _announce_ it to everyone.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

**5 / 2 / 2016**

Story broke out after that day, all over the news: Gym Teacher Attempts Suicide Atop School Roof.

_"Olympic medalist Suguru Kamoshida leapt off the roof of Shujin Academy, loudly confessing that he had physically and sexually abused several students under his..."_

Kids looking for cheap views uploaded the footage of Kamoshida jumping off online. His confession caused ripples for Shujin's PR. Principal and teachers alike have been struggling, the past week, trying to manage all the horrible press slamming them with questions surrounding Kamoshida's inappropriate conduct.

It was schizophrenic at first. Fans of Kamoshida talked about how much of an inspiration he was to them. Got to the point some sort of defense squad formed. Saying he was wrongfully accused, that everyone had been lying, that he couldn't be responsible for such a crime; the man had _confessed,_ but they were still trying to defend him.

Then larger groups cropped up out of the woodwork. Talking about Kamoshida being a monster. That he _should've_ killed himself. That he had to suffer the same way he'd made others suffer. Other groups still viewed the situation with more than a little levity, ridiculing him for seeking out teenagers. _For an Olympic medalist, he must've not had a lot of stamina in bed_.

People who'd worked with Kamoshida started talking; mostly women, of course. They say he'd always been a creep, that he always lingered around them and made them feel _so_ uncomfortable. But none of them had spoken up before because of who he was, because of his stature in society, and somehow that's supposed to make us viewers sympathize.

Some of Kamoshida's teammates got interviewed as well; some talked about how _shocked_ they were that this information's come forward, that they'd never expected someone like _him_ to have fallen to such depths. They all condemned him, they all disowned him, they all did the predictable celebrity thing and never ever tried to even remotely sound like they were ever friends with the guy.

Then Shujin removed his info from their site. The rumors continued to spread, but the principal didn't try to quell them anymore, figuring to just let them talk their mouths off. Soon the news comes into Shujin, asked for interviews. Several girls from the volleyball team, from the women's basketball team, from basically _every_ PE subject under Kamoshida come clean. That it had been scary at times to be around him, that he would be so forward, that he would be so _touchy-feely_. Then the men came in, with their bruises and bandages, talking about how Kamoshida routinely abused them, put them through Hell every training session.

They all gave the same excuse. They were scared. Kamoshida could've ruined their lives. What could they have done?

Not long after that, someone new appeared. Said she'd recognized Kamoshida's face in the news. Says that he'd assaulted her when she was just a teenager, and that she's lived with the trauma for all these years. Her name is Aiko Yamamoto. But her name's not important. What is important is the fact that she remembered Kamoshida and his _friends_ standing over her in an alleyway, she remembered clutching herself, holding herself and her torn clothes tight, Kamoshida drunk and dazed and laughing over her withered and hollowed body.

That's the story that sealed the deal, then and there.

It all happened in just a few weeks.

I haven't see Yoshizawa very often recently, but whenever I would she'd look half-dead. Sakamoto's doing even worse, apparently, but we'll get to that later.

Takamaki and I proceed to the same rooftop he'd jumped from. Staying behind the fencing, of course. Only place we could chat undisturbed.

Unfortunately for Kobayakawa it's broken on the door here, too.

We stay under the canopy, at each other's side.

"Honestly kind of surprised you held yourself back against him, way back when. I'd have just shot him and left it there. That said...how the hell's he not dead?" I ask her, biting down on some yakisoba.

She shrugs, "Doctors said he's strong, apparently. Rumor has it, though, he's completely paralyzed from the neck down. If he ever wakes up, he'll only ever be able to communicate by blinking _."_

I whistle, "You alright with that?"

She swallows, "I wanted him to apologize _himself_. Wanted him to live the rest of his life grovelling for forgiveness. I guess I believe in fates worse than death. And lo and behold..."

"Sucks to be him."

"I don't feel any different," she says suddenly. "Shiho's still in a coma, and Kamoshida's gonna be a cripple for the rest of his life, and I don't feel the slightest bit different."

Takes me a while to answer her back, "Neither do I."

She winces, clutching at her shoulders, "Ryuji feels terrible. He's had to go to the nurse's multiple times. I saw him earlier this week, he looked like he'd been crying for hours."

"Course he would. He's squeamish."

"But his heart's in the right place. I forgot to thank you, back then."

"For what? _You_ broke the Treasure."

"If it wasn't for all three of you, Kamoshida'd still be here. You're the only person I _can_ really thank. Pretty sure Yoshizawa feels as horrible about it as Ryuji does. Whatever your reasons were for helping stop him...thank you. I couldn't have done it without you."

I nod, "Same."

"If Shiho ever wakes up, I'll apologize to her. Whether she forgives me or not...I'll make clear how sorry I am I let things get as far as they did. I'll wait for her every day. And if she wants me out of her life, then I'll just have to accept it."

"If anybody deserves to walk out of this with their head high, it's her," I shake my head.

"What're you gonna do?"

"Me?"

"Rumors are going around that we four threatened him with violence. Or his family. _Coerced_ him into jumping off the roof."

"Course they are." Unfortunate that Yoshizawa has to deal with this shit, too. But them's the breaks.

"So what'll you do?"

"Honestly?" I scratch my chin. "Find a job, I guess. I'm just glad I never have to go into Palaces again."

She breathes, "Ditto."

And we just stand there, leaning against the wall. I give her a piece of bread and she bites it down, as we watch the sun set on this horrible school that's gotten just a little more tolerable to walk in.

I feel a bit of a giggle rising up, and Takamaki notices, "What's up?"

"Just a joke I heard once," I say, thinking of Kamoshida. "You wouldn't like it."

"Go ahead. Think we could all use a joke every now and again."

"...what's the hardest part of a vegetable to--?"

Suddenly the door shuffles open.

The first thing I notice is her eyes. Auburn-colored, they would become a fierce red in the light of the sun. Brown hair, in a bob cut, with blunt bangs. Black halter vest, over a long-sleeve white turtleneck-shirt. Not wearing the standard Shujin blazer, strangely enough. She turns to us, and speaks like we're already suspects: "This place is off-limits, you know."

More subtle about it than Kamoshida, but she talks like she's hot shit. You'd get the feeling she speaks to _everyone_ this way.

"We're done here," Takamaki says, pulling herself away from the wall.

New girl keeps talking. "The infamous transfer student and the center of gossip, meeting up on the roof of the school for a private conversation. Interesting combination, if I do say so."

Takamaki hotly whispers, "Great way to start a conversation..."

"By the way...," she clasps her hands daintily, shuffling her weight to one leg as she faces me. "It seems you got to know Mr. Kamoshida pretty well."

Can't resist smirking. "Knew just about as much as the next guy."

"He's only been here a week and a half, you know," Takamaki grunts, standing between me and her.

Her eyes pierce beyond Takamaki's, into mine. "I heard Mr. Kamoshida used a volleyball team member to spread details of your past record. Don't you hate him? Mr. Kamoshida, I mean."

"Seen the news lately? Lots of people hate him."

"True. But in the days leading up to his suicide attempt, rumor has it he ended up in a confrontation with a couple of students. Your name pops up the most frequently. Kazuya Hikawa."

Not even Sakamoto's. Takamaki interjects, "Doesn't the student council president have anything better to do with her time?"

Student council. Explains some things.

"I don't mean to offend. Many students have been shaken up by what happened to Mr. Kamoshida. The rumors about his sordid interactions with you aren't going to go away either..."

Suddenly I step in, before Takamaki can make another quip. "It's true that I didn't like the guy. Something off in the way he carried himself. But, hell. I didn't think he was _that_ bad."

Looks a little somber as she says, "True. Nobody had. Until it was too late."

"Always unfortunate to catch wind of something horrible way too late for your own good. Isn't it, Miss Student Council President?"

Takamaki looks at me like I'm fucking crazy.

President's body language lets nothing show. But her eyes tell me so much.

"At least try to understand my position. The school is still reeling from public backlash concerning Kamoshida's suicide attempts, as well as his...confessions of impropriety. It's a very trying time for us all." Suddenly she shifts back into prim and proper and dignified, running her hand lightly against some hair behind her ear. "Ah, yes. By the way. It's been decided this place will be closed off due to the incidents. Can't have a constant stream of people coming up here without permission, after all. I'm sorry to interrupt you."

Turns away and walks back down the stairs without even looking back. Her confidence is something to admire. Her smugness on the other hand reminds me of _me_.

So there's a good chance I'd be better off avoiding her.

"What was _that_ about...?"

"She's onto us," I sigh. "But, well. Not like Kamoshida can say anything about it now. Though we should be cautious. She's sharp."

"Her name's Makoto Niijima. Brown-noses teachers like their asses are her air supply. And yes, she is sharp. Gets aces on every exam."

Makoto Niijima. "Guess we'll just have to lay low for a while. Aren't exams coming up, too?"

Her eyes widen. "Forgot about those..."

"Best to just keep our heads down and study."

"Right."

We head down the stairs and go our separate ways once we leave the school grounds. I think about heading into Shibuya to look for some part-time jobs. I don't know what will happen next. I don't know why a droning noise pops through my ears again as I walk through the city.

I don't know that this Makoto Niijima will be the woman I'll end up hating more than anyone else in this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tune in next time for Kazuya's attempts to get a job.


	20. What's the Hardest Part of a Vegetable to Eat?

**5 / 3 / 2016**

"Can you teach me how to cook?"

Maruki turns to me, "Sorry?"

"My meals were prepared for me by our housekeepers. I never needed to learn how to cook for myself, back then."

"W-well, okay...," he clears his throat. "Is there any meal in particular you'd like to start off with?"

I rub my hand along the back of my head. "I...don't know what I _could_ start with."

He gets up off his chair and rolls up his sleeves. "Well. We could try paella. That's what _I_ made for my first meal."

"Never heard of it."

"Really? I thought for sure you'd have tried it at least once. It's a very delicious rice dish from Spain, specifically Valencia. What helps make it special is it's cooked in this massive frying pan, suitable for a whole family."

"So it's a big meal..."

"Yeah. But that means we can save it for days. I specialize in _paella_ _mixta._ Uses up a lot of meat, seafood, vegetables, etcetera."

I wince, "How hard is it gonna be?"

"Not gonna be _easy_... but I think you'll do alright."

"God help me."

He smiles, pats me on the shoulder, "You'll do fine! Believe in yourself." I laugh, very very loudly, which startles him a little. "You've got the spirit, at least. We start tonight."

"Tonight? What time?"

"Eight PM. Gotta let the meat defrost."

"Okay. Okay," I breathe, hyping myself up. "I'm ready."

"You'll do fine. I promise."

* * *

Two hours and a helluva lot of wasted tools later, and I'm able to taste test my first paella.

"Goddammit."

He takes a spoonful, shoves it in his mouth, "It's not that bad."

"It's not _anything_. It tastes like cardboard."

"No, it's not, it tastes like _rice_. Just rice. My first one tasted _horrible_ ," he laughs, "Rumi was so mortified she slammed her hands down on the table. Added too much paprika and oregano. Yours is at least edible."

"What did I even do wrong...?" I groan, slumping in a chair.

"I think it needs a little more salt, and spices," takes a bite out of some of the meat. "Also, your beef isn't fully cooked."

"It isn't?"

"No. It isn't brown enough. There's still some pale bits here and there. I think we didn't let it defrost, long enough. Not very healthy, all things considered."

I exhale, "I knew I'd be garbage at this."

"It's still perfectly salvageable. When we reheat this we'll add some salt, a few more spices, mix it all up a bit, and see how it goes."

Maruki's a big goddamn ball o' sunshine and it kinda pisses me off. But hell, I'd rather him than Dad. "What other meals do you think I can do?"

"Mmm, let's try something a little more basic next time. I think you'd do better with tonkatsu. Get some practice in heating up meat. Though, it's pork, not beef..."

"What about that miso soup you made? Can I try my hand at that?"

He smiles, "Later on. Sometimes you've gotta learn to run before you walk."

"It was really delicious. You could sell the recipe, start a restaurant."

He chuckles a little, "I'm _terrible_ at that kind of thing. Can't deal with multiple customers at once. I'm at my best when I work with people one at a time. I get so shy."

"Shy?"

He rolls up his sleeves, starts washing some of the utensils we used in the sink. "When I was your age, I couldn't even talk to people without stuttering and getting all anxious. Rumi was the only exception, 'cause she was a childhood friend of mine."

"Thought you were high school sweethearts."

"I knew her _before_ high school," he blushes. "Elementary. We just got together in high school on a whim, I dunno. But anyway, she'd always try to get me to talk to people. Open up, be more assertive. I'd always just let people step over me because I didn't wanna be a bother to anybody. I'd like to say I'm a little better than I was before...but, I don't think I am by much. I still get _really_ worked up in crowds."

"Well, I'd say you're doing fine," I take another bite out of the paella. "There's a violent criminal in your house and you're talking with him like he's any other ordinary person."

He turns to face me, "Most criminals are ordinary people, Hikawa-kun. Like that gym teacher in your school."

 _Ordinary_ _?_ "The guy abused his students. Doubt he's _that_ ordinary."

"He may have had that darkness inside him, but he was able to at least act kind of normally in front of his peers and students. Otherwise he wouldn't have gotten away with it for so long."

"Or he had help," I groan.

"I can see that happening, too. His presence at Shujin was important for the school's PR. But...," he sighs. "How've you been, with everything that's happening? God, how's your _school_ taking all of it?"

"Keeping my head low. Everybody's all scrambling to figure things out. Inspectors and cops sometimes in the halls, questioning students about his abuses. Can only imagine Kobayakawa's got his hands full."

He groans, "I sincerely hope he wasn't protected by the other teachers. It's disgusting, what he did to his students."

I remember him squealing like a pig, my heel pressing against his Adam's apple, seeing him shit and piss all over himself at the sight of a gun in his face, "Too nice a word."

* * *

.

.

.

**5 / 7 / 2016**

Saturday.

Shibuya's underground passage hustles and bustles and I let myself be swallowed by the crowds.

Not a morning person so I'm yawning and my posture's ass and I'm swaying a little from side to side. But a voice coming from behind me brings me out of my dizziness.

"It looks like you're attending school seriously."

Girl with brown hair, auburn eyes. Memories of a rooftop. A name, _Makoto Niijima_. She approaches me so casually it almost catches me off-guard, and she has some sorta fake sing-song cadence to her voice which sets all alarms blaring in the back of my head.

"You also seem pretty close with Takamaki-san, if I do say so. Judging from your interactions on the rooftop the other day, at least."

I yawn, murmuring, "Dunno about that," as I try to inch myself a little further away from her.

"You've just transferred here, though...well. I suppose it's just that you two really click. I heard she was a victim of Mr. Kamoshida, too, but was that all there was to it...?"

I narrow my eyes, shrugging, "Ask her."

She smiles. It's a somewhat smug smile, one she's probably used in this sorta situation a thousand times before. "Either way. Closer inspection should clear everything up."

Train pulls up and I board it, her following a few feet behind. Tired enough to not give it much heed. But not enough to not be annoyed.

* * *

I informed Maruki that I'd be slightly late coming home. Can't rely on him to keep cooking for me.

Once I graduate I'm basically on my own. No allowance from Dad to sustain me, the reputation I've garnered hanging over my head all the while. Meaning as of today, I have to restart my whole goddamn life as a member of the proletariat.

And of all the pamphlets in Shibuya detailing what part-time jobs are available, only two seem feasible for me right now.

One's a coffee shop by the name of Leblanc, in the Yongen-Jaya district. Pays about ¥7,000 on a nightly basis. Pretty good pay. But it's doubtful I can sustain something like that; time for homework and studying and all. The other job seems more flexible, generally speaking. But goddamn it'll be embarrassing.

Pamphlet's got a bigass flower on the front cover and a happy-looking couple with a bouquet in the corner.

> _RAFFLESIA Hiring Now!  
>  _
> 
> _Looking for charming staff!_
> 
> _Time: Day or night_
> 
> _Wage: ¥3,200+ daily_
> 
> _Shibuya Underground Mall_

I dial the number on the upper left-hand corner.

_"Hi, this is the flower shop Rafflesia. Are you looking to order some flowers?"_

"Hello, er...my name is Kazuya Hikawa. I saw the pamphlet you posted and I'd like to work as a part-timer."

_"Ah, I see. In that case, I can get you started right away. As for what days, we can work around your schedule. Come straight to the store on a day you're available."_

"Can I get started today?" I ask her.

_"Oh, sure! Just head down the underground mall in Shibuya station, and you'll find our shop! We're right next to a Triple Seven down below."_

The Devil working in a flower shop. Would make for a hilarious book. They'll prolly fire me the minute they see me, though. No charm whatsoever.

Someone's following me.

* * *

_Someone's following me_ , and I know it. Every time I turn my back around I _know_ someone's tailing me like they wanna sell me something.

Well. Hopefully they enjoy sitting wherever the hell they are for like an hour. 

I bow to the lady managing the store. Shorter than me, looks to be in her thirties. Brown hair in a ponytail.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Hanasaki, the owner of this shop. I'll do everything myself today, so you can just observe me and try to learn the ropes."

"Thank you for having me."

"Well. Let's begin!" she says cheerfully.

Makes me put on an apron and a new brown shirt and for the next like thirty minutes I'm tending to a bunch of different flowers, taking pics of them and reverse-image searching them to find out what the hell I'm looking at. All the while that horrible niggling feeling still spreads from the back of my neck. There's one person I could point to who's following me right now. But it's just conjecture. Haven't seen anything out of her the past few days. And if she is following me she wouldn't make a very big show of it.

Thankfully no customer comes in and has me be more than an observer. All of them thus far, predictably, are pretty old or at the very least mature. But someone approaches and undoes my expectations for the rest of the day.

"Ah, Okumura-san!"

"Hello, Hanasaki-san."

Half of her face is forehead. But hell, she's pretty cute regardless. Fluffy & light brown hair, almond eyes and a small but plain smile. She wears a pink turtleneck sweater, white leggings, and brown leather shoes. The name _Okumura_ is familiar to me, but I can't pin down exactly why.

"What brings you here?"

"Oh, my plants aren't looking too healthy, so I came here to buy some nutrients for them."

"I think I have just what you need, just wait right here..."

Thankfully she keeps her distance, waiting outside the flower shop, though she catches my eye every now and again. I've the distinct feeling I've seen her somewhere before, in passing. Is she from Shujin? I think I'd remember an outfit like hers. Is _she_ the one who's been following me? No. She wouldn't appear in front of me so brazenly, if that's the case. Or maybe she's trying to mess with me, this adorable fluffy-haired girl. Assert her dominance?

Who'd have known beating the hell out of my asshole gym teacher would've made me so paranoid--?

"Thank you very much!" I realize too late she already received the nutrients while I had my little internal freak-out. The merry way she smiles _almost_ convinces me she has no ulterior motives, but who the hell knows at this point?

What the hell am I even doing anymore?

The girl bows happily, thanking Hanasaki-san again with the nutrients in a brown paper bag. Hanasaki-san waves her off and I let myself breathe easy, turning back to the plants and getting my phone out to take more pictures--

"Oh, Niijima-chan, what brings you here?"

\--and I feel the unstoppable urge to assert _my_ dominance.

I rush out the shop a little too briskly for my taste and I see Makoto Niijima standing there like a deer in headlights, with some kinda shonen manga in her hands, covering half her face. She doesn't see me because Fluffy Girl's chatting her up, and because she doesn't wanna be rude she keeps talking even though she clearly looks like she's in the middle o' something. Calmly I walk back inside the shop and decide to work there for another hour or so, with Hanasaki-san none the wiser.

I receive my pay (¥3,800, because I stayed a little longer than usual), Hanasaki-san thanks me for spending extra time in the shop on my first day, and as far as I could tell on my way home, Niijima's absconded.

The hell said it's unhealthy to be paranoid?

* * *

.

.

.

**5 / 9 / 2016**

Monday.

I see Kawakami talking to that kid whose fingers I'd broken back in all the chaos with Kamoshida. He looks a little uneasy, but stands up and makes his way out the door, as though ordered to. His fingers are still bandaged.

Takamaki turns to me, arms folded over the back of her chair, "You should know that the student council president's after you." 

"I know."

"You know?"

"She followed me to my part-time job, yesterday," I groan.

"All the way to your job...?"

"How'd _you_ know?"

"I saw her bringing Yoshizawa into the student council room for questioning. And I saw her yesterday going around the hallway with a book in her hands, tailing you. Kind of obvious."

Something about bringing Yoshizawa into this annoys me. "I'll let it be for now."

"For now?"

"Don't wanna draw too much attention to myself, honestly. I'll deal with it as it comes. She'll prolly get bored soon enough."

"You're not gonna try anything?"

"I'd rather not go into Palaces unless I have to."

"Just be careful."

"Thanks for letting me know," I bring my bag up to my shoulder. "You be careful, too. Only a matter of time before she brings either of us in for questioning."

"Right. What's your job, by the way?"

I can't find it in myself to look at her when I admit, "Flower shop."

Takamaki makes a _pffft_ sound out her mouth and chuckles, " _Flowers_?"

"It was the only one I could find," I groan.

"It suits you _reaaal_ well," she says cheekily. "Maybe I could order some? Thinking of decorating my room a little..."

I march my way out the door while telling her, "Shibuya, underground mall. Look for Rafflesia."

* * *

_This_ time I try to be a little more unpredictable about my movements. Niijima's easier to track now; find the girl with the manga covering her face. Even in a crowd her appearance is plain as day.

First I go to Big Bang Burger, take that challenge everyone's freaking out about and immediately regret it once I realize they increased the size of the burger since I took it last. The large ass burger fills me up so much I prolly won't have to eat dinner tonight, nor breakfast nor lunch tomorrow, but goddammit it isn't enough and I _won't_ give Niijima an inch here.

She sat in the corner the whole goddamn time, taking notes and covering her face with the manga like she thought she was still inconspicuous.

God, she'd be terrible sneaking around in a Palace. Though what the hell right do I have to say about sneaking around?

I go into like five different stores and spend like an hour in each one, mostly just wandering around and looking at stuff. I even go into the goddamn jewelry shop and start eyeing every single piece in stock, like any of 'em would suit my ugly mug. I go to some karaoke place and sing terribly until I break my goddamn larynx. I go to the arcade above ground and shoot things in some gun game nobody seemed to be playing at the time. I watch some three-hour long horror movie with boring characters centered around a bullshit story with a mad elephant and a series of death traps.

Every goddamn time she follows me around.

She stood outside the jewelry shop while I looked at shit. She sat in the corner of the karaoke place, listening to my awful singing the whole way through. She watched _Pach-Saw_ with me in some far off seat in the crowd and even _I_ could tell the movie freaked her out. And not many people even went to see _Pach-Saw_ , so what the hell else was _she_ doing there?

I decide to work at the flower shop in the evening, messaging Maruki I'd be eating out that night, that I'd have to learn how to cook spaghetti some other time. At some point that feeling of being followed stops ringing in my neck, and I'm able to make it home without being spied on the rest of the day.

I study for the rest of the night, wondering how the hell to go about this with exams around the corner.

* * *

.

.

.

**5 / 10 / 2016**

What do I get when I try to eat my lunch in the tranquility of the courtyard.

"I told you before. We don't know anything."

Takamaki and Niijima, discussing matters near a couple vending machines. I shove myself behind a nearby wall; lucky for me neither saw me even in the slightest.

"Why do you think I'm here to question you?" Niijima asks. "Could it be that you're hiding something? My ears are always open to the troubles of my peers, you know."

God, this is already turning pear-shaped. I'm about to step in, involve myself and maybe regret it. But Takamaki's bolder than I expected. 

"You're really _that_ hungry for a good letter of recommendation? Of course you are. No one would take on your annoying job if they weren't."

Niijima actually sounds a little pissed. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Takamaki decides she can be straightforward when she wants to be, too. "You're student council president, right? Wouldn't you have known about Kamoshida?"

"Of course I didn't know," Niijima's tone takes a bizarre shift; didn't think I'd ever hear desperation outta her. "He was honestly a good teacher until that day..."

"Oh, but you _always_ take the teacher's side. That's what a _good student council president_ does, right?"

"Then...," the tone in her voice shifts, sounds similar to mine, "what about you? What did you do for your friend? You were much closer to her than I was. So how did _you_ help?"

I'm so sure Takamaki's about to claw her eyes out that I step out of my hiding spot, something I'm even surer of when Takamaki cries out, " _Don't you dare bring Shiho into this, you bitch!_ "

That proud tone of voice suddenly turns pained, anguished, "There's no need to shout."

"Takamaki." Both of them turn around. I take a bite outta the bread I bought from the school store. "You ready? Exam tomorrow's on trigonometry. Got my notes prepped back in the classroom."

Tensions diffuse then and there. Niijima gives me a knowing and cold look, and I let nothing inside me show.

Takamaki walks past her, but not before giving her the stink-eye, and trudges to my side.

She huffs, whirling back to face Niijima. "At the end of the day. If someone drove Kamoshida to jump off the top of that roof, I'd be calling them a hero. Better than people like you and me," she gives a tormented and furious smile, "who kept our fucking heads in the sand until it was too late."

Suddenly she loops an arm around mine, and pulls me away, back into school. Tears stream down her face, but she's too enraged to sink into her sadness.

We leave Makoto Niijima standing there in the courtyard.

* * *

"How the hell is x not five?"

"You added before you multiplied," I tell her.

After classes she and I huddled in a cafe somewhere in Shibuya, deciding to take this time to actually study. Her eyes are red and she's still pissed off beyond all measure, but she's managed to temper it well enough.

"I can't deal with this shit."

"You'll have to. Best to not draw attention to yourself and get reasonable grades."

She hisses, "Honestly, I'm garbage at everything except English. It'll be weird if my grades start going up, if anything..."

"Are you in the mood to keep studying, or do you just wanna order something?"

With a sigh, she presses on the little bell in the center of the table, and orders a set of buffalo wings. Afterwards, she plants her head down on the table, using her arms as a cover.

"She was right," she groans, "as much as I hate to admit it. I didn't do anything to help Shiho, and I was much closer to the situation than she ever was. Every time I saw his eyes crawl all over me, I just wanted to hide in a hole forever. I was so scared I didn't even want to see what Shiho had to deal with. And she was _so_ right I just ran away like a bitch. God, I'm so fucking infuriated."

"To be fair, her only counter to that was a whataboutism. _What about you_? _What did_ you _do for_ your _friend_? Doesn't exactly exclude her from her own fuck-ups."

"Yeah. But there's no way I can excuse myself either. _I_ failed Shiho. I'm just as culpable as everyone else who neglected Kamoshida's abuses."

"There's no use mulling over it, now."

She shakes her head, "What're you gonna do?"

"About what?"

"Exams. Niijima. Whatever."

"Well...I can take things easy today, since," I do a once over on the whole cafe, "she's decided not to follow me for now. Prolly gonna study. Find out what her big deal is after exams."

"You willing to wait that long?"

"If there's one thing about myself I wanna be proud of, it's my grades."

Buffalo wings are plopped down in front of Takamaki by an exceptionally handsome waiter.

Calls me a "Nerd," as she grabs a napkin and bites down on a wing like she's biting down on Niijima's throat.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

**5 / 16 / 2016**

Monday again.

Exams came from the 11th to 14th, exams went. Grades haven't come out yet and I'm pretty sure I didn't study as much as I should have, so I'm either average or low on the totem pole. But more important matters lie ahead.

I spy with my little eye the student council president gesturing to an open door, with Sakamoto reluctantly entering inside.

I made it a point to work at the flower shop every single day, even through exams. True to form, she followed me around, but left after about thirty minutes or so. Couldn't let following me around risk her future, it seemed.

It's lunchtime, so I've got only a limited window before she tails me again by the end of the day.

By the time I've found who I'm looking for, half an hour's passed. Thirty minutes left. Shouldn't take too long at all. Evidently she has lunch on the bench, in the courtyard. 

"Excuse me, are you Sonoko Takeuchi?" I ask her.

According to Shujin's website, she's the head of the Newspaper Club. A demure-looking girl with red glasses and long black hair. I need to learn as much about Niijima as I can. No descriptions about how smart or hardworking she is on Shujin's crappy website.

Takeuchi turns, expression impassive. "Who wants to know?"

"My name is Kazuya Hikawa. Do you have a minute?"

"The transfer student of Class-D?" she grins a little. "Why are you looking for me?"

"I've a few questions regarding Makoto Niijima."

"Our student council president. What makes you think I would answer those questions, just like that?" she asks, a little snootily.

"I don't." From out my pocket I show her most of my salary from the past week. "Not without an incentive, at least."

She smirks. "You think a member of the Newspaper Club can be bought off so easily?"

Two more thousand-yen bills.

She takes them immediately, and mulls over what she knows as she plies through the paper, "Very studious. Rather straight-laced, doesn't like to mince words. Sister's a public prosecutor."

Knew that name sounded familiar. "What's she like with the teachers and students?"

"Teachers like her. Students, not so much. Though the feeling's mutual on her end. She isn't particularly close to anyone. Hasn't even had a boyfriend, as far as I can tell. If you're trying to get together with her, good luck. She's hard on delinquents and slackers."

"Why don't the students like her?"

"Kind of a hardass. I've worked with her, interviewed her every now and again for the paper. She's nice when you're on her good side. But she's kinda...ineffectual."

"Ineffectual?"

"Don't get me wrong. She's a very hard worker, and she comes down hard on anyone in student council who isn't doing their job. But she's distant. Doesn't really _talk_ to the students much. And when she does she exudes this kinda _Mother/Smother_ -ishenergy which can come off as condescending."

Condescending sounds about right. "How'd she even get elected?"

"Well, the previous stuco prez was pretty bad at handling things like events and shit. Plus he had this reputation for being a two-timer, which caused a lot of drama. Niijima in comparison seemed like a breath of fresh air. Always got good grades, seemed up to whatever task teachers had in store, was friendly when she wasn't scary. But, well. I'd say she's done a good job, but..."

"But what?"

Her eyes flash, "Gonna cost extra."

Two more thousand dollar bills. "Rumors going around. After the whole Kamoshida debacle, I've heard people say she knew what had been goin' on behind the scenes."

"Think she did?"

"Rumors weren't exactly widespread," Newspaper Girl sighs. "Even I didn't know anything about Kamoshida's abuses. Really, I think they're too hard on her. But she doesn't do herself much favors."

"Heard she kisses ass."

"Wouldn't say _that_. The teachers love her because she's diligent, and a lot of her decisions in student council were geared towards encouraging discipline in the students. She's polite and strict and gets good grades. She's all prim and proper, but I personally think it has to do more with upbringing than anything else."

"Right. Sister's a prosecutor." Meaning parents might be cops.

"You gonna confront her over her following you all over the place?"

God, "You saw her, too?"

"Rumors are going around she's interested in you. Or she's just trying to find out if you've got a connection to Kamoshida. Or she's _really_ invested in that manga she's carrying around, and just so happens to be walking right behind you while she does it. Word has it the Principal's having her do it."

"Kobayakawa?"

"He and Kamoshida were pretty close associates. Pretty sure Kobayakawa wants to figure out the truth behind him jumping right off the roof. Smart of him to pick Niijima to do it. She'll probably lay off once she finds evidence on you."

"Why am I her primary target?"

"A good number of people believe you had something to do with Kamoshida. Too many things line up too neatly. But honestly?" she turns to face me directly. "I really couldn't care less how you did what you did. I'm just glad that sick bastard is gone. Criminal or not, you got rid of him. It'd suck if you were expelled because of that."

"You say this, yet I had to pay you to get this much outta you."

"Can't reach out to the truth on an empty stomach, Hikawa-san," she smiles. "I really am rooting for you, though. Anybody else, I wouldn't have told them this. Even _if_ they paid me."

"I should be so lucky. Thanks for the info," I tell her, as I leave her behind. "And I didn't do anything to Kamoshida."

I can _feel_ her smile, though my back is to her, "Keep telling yourself that."

* * *

After classes Niijima follows me again, as diligent as ever. She tries to hide herself among the students in the halls, in the crowds of the subway. That same manga covering half her face.

On my phone I find more information about her and her family. Namely her sister. The woman who'd prosecuted me those years back. Apparently their mother died when Niijima was still very young, and their father was a cop killed in the line of duty. Unfortunate for them both. Will have to use this info when the time comes.

Because she's still following me and she'll likely show no signs of stopping until she finds something interesting to report back to Kobayakawa.

So I decide I'll confront her. I'll make sure she has no choice but to tell me what the hell is going on, exactly.

I take one foot off the platform and lean forward as a train comes--

Right on time, she pulls me back. " _What were you thinking_!? You could have gotten yourself killed!"

I smirk at her, "Gotcha."

"Wh-what...!?"

"Thank you for saving my life, Makoto Niijima, esteemed student council president of Shujin Academy," I say as I wrench my arm away from her. "As a token of my appreciation I'd like to take you out somewhere. Preferably the Big Bang Burger down the street."

"Wait, _wait,_ what are you even--?"

"There's simply so much we have to discuss. You must be tired from following me around these past few days, aren't you? Might as well reinvigorate ourselves by chowing down on a little fast food, don't you think?"

"Y-you knew I was...?"

I grab her book out her hands and spread it wide, masking my nose and mouth and shouting out loud, "OH DON'T LOOK AT ME, I'M SO STEALTHY NOBODY COULD _POSSIBLY_ NOTICE ME SNEAKING AROUND SOME DELINQUENT AS HE WORKS AT A FLOWER SHOP ALL DAY."

She's blushing furiously as she grabs the book back, and opens her mouth to try and say something as a retort, but I don't let her.

"What's say we have a bite, no? I insist. After all. I believe you share my frustration at running around in circles, not knowing what the hell the other person's gonna do next. Wouldn't you agree?"

She's beyond pissed off. So much so her hands have balled up into fists. Scowling at me, she says, "Alright then. Let's go."

* * *

Niijima doesn't order anything. I order some fries, a soft drink, and a burger. She glares at me the whole time, even as I down one fry after another.

"Why've you been following me?"

"I think you know perfectly well _why_."

"Course I do. Just wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth. That said. Why are you so concerned over what happened to Kamoshida?"

She raises her brow at me, "I wouldn't say it's concern." Then she sighs. "To be perfectly honest. I can't say I would miss him if he did die. He was a sexual predator who used innocent women and children to satisfy his baser urges. But if he made a confession under duress, then his civil rights were violated."

Civil rights for a rapist. "Why assume somebody put him under duress at all? Maybe he just had a manic episode."

She smiles a little smugly, "I've read up on your past records, Hikawa-san. I know you're a smart man. So you and I both know that people like Kamoshida don't just change overnight, and take such drastic action, without some kind of...catalyst, to his behavior."

Might as well get all this over with. "Of all the people who could do such a thing, why am _I_ your prime suspect?”

Makoto Niijima pauses for a moment, pursing her lips, as though she's trying to figure out how to go about the next few minutes.

Thoughtful. Controlled. Trying to restrain anything stupid.

That won't do.

I'll poke the tiger a little more, and see what comes out its mouth. "You hear what they say about you, don't you? The other students, I mean."

She narrows her eyes, "What _do_ they say, Hikawa-san? I'm dying to hear it."

"They say you spend a lot of your time kissing ass and trying to make teachers proud of you," and she looks _furious_ , but I don't let her even say a word. "Multiple students I've heard say they believe you knew about Suguru Kamoshida's abuses, but did nothing about it."

She balls her hands up into fists and reiterates clearly, as she had days ago, "Of course I didn't know." 

"First few days in, I saw volleyball trainees looking like they'd come from a goddamn warzone. I find it very difficult to believe you didn't at _least_ hear a rumor or two. You didn't do shit about Kamoshida. But you've been following me for the past week and a half. So what the hell happened? Are you so desperate to salvage your reputation that you'd pin accusations of violence on a delinquent?"

"Pinning accusations on you?" she smirks. "Do you think yourself an innocent in all this?"

"Of course. After all, I've done nothing wrong."

She leans back in her seat, folds her arms and crosses her legs and I know I've got her. " _Well_. There are multiple factors as to why you're the prime suspect. One of the first being that, on the day itself, you immediately ran to Shiho Suzui and attempted to save her from falling off the top of the roof."

I narrow my eyes at her, "What the hell's that supposed to indicate?"

"I mean no offense when I bring her up. In fact, I thought that what you did was rather heroic."

I smirk at her. "For a delinquent?"

"No," she sighs. "I was glad somebody, anybody had attempted to save her at all. What Kamoshida had done to her was unforgivable."

God, who cares about forgiveness. "Anybody would've done the same in my shoes. Girl jumping off the top of the roof, and you'd just stand still? The hell does this have to do with connecting me to Kamoshida?"

"Shiho Suzui is a smaller part of a larger puzzle," Niijima says. "Multiple members of the volleyball team, whether juniors or seniors, have recently reported to me that they were approached by both Ryuji Sakamoto and Kasumi Yoshizawa on the day of the volleyball meet, many weeks ago. Those members claimed that the two of them were working with you, that you three confronted Kamoshida at the end of the day. Multiple accounts of the three of you and him in an altercation, at the front doors of the school."

"Sakamoto and Yoshizawa don't want anything to do with me."

"Interesting. Sakamoto had said the exact same thing, when I brought him into the student council office. How the tides change."

God. "What _did_ Sakamoto say, specifically?"

"He said you were the Devil. That I should stay clear of you. That the second I get in your way, you'll do everything in your power to take me out."

"Those were _his_ words, huh?"

"Yoshizawa had a similar opinion. She pleaded with me to avoid you. She said you were dangerous. How do you build such a reputation with your peers, in your first few weeks alone? Of course... there's also another person I spoke to regarding you. Does the name Yuuki Mishima ring a bell?"

I narrow my eyes, "Heard something about a kid named Nishima being Kamoshida's gofer."

"Funny. Because when I brought your name up to him, he looked terrified. Even when he denied that his fingers had been broken by you. Interestingly enough, said injury occurred the day Shiho Suzui jumped off the roof of the school. What a happy little coincidence."

I glare at her. "This is all circumstantial evidence, you know."

And she glares back, "But all the circumstances tie together far too neatly for their own good. There's also the fact that Kamoshida leaked your criminal records, and planned to expel you, so you undoubtedly have motive. And taking the incident surrounding your arrest into account...I think all these things point to only one possible conclusion." Her eyes are firm and fiery now, and she finishes her whole spiel with, "Don't you agree, Hikawa-san?"

I've to admit, she's good. She's brilliant. Enough such that, were I not on the receiving end of her deductions, I'd admire her for it.

I let everything simmer inside myself. I see a woman standing behind Niijima, her black hairs curling around her neck and her hands.

Suddenly she says, "I'm trying to help you. Why won't you just admit to it?"

I look at her like she's mad, " _Help_ me?"

"Principal Kobayakawa is all but certain of your culpability."

"Is he, really?"

"The day after Suzui's suicide attempt, Kamoshida called in sick. Kobayakawa called him on the phone out of concern. The man said many things that didn't make that much sense, something about a _castle_ and _monsters_. But he said your name multiple times throughout the call. When Kobayakawa pressed him for answers, Kamoshida hung up. He wouldn't answer the phone again, couldn't even be found at his own house. The time anybody saw him again, was the time he jumped off the roof of the school."

"So what the hell are you even _doing_ here?"

"He only requested my help in order to gather more sufficient evidence against you. You put a stop to Kamoshida's abuses, I know you did. But you're digging yourself a grave, here. He intends to pin all the blame on you whether or not I come to him with the evidence I've gathered. You got rid of a rapist from our campus, and I'm grateful for that, but at the end of the day you drove a man to madness. I don't know how, but you did. If you could just come clean with everything, you'll make things so much easier on yourself. I'll even vouch for you--"

"You and I both know I'm dead the second Kobayakawa files for my expulsion. If you think me confessing or you vouching for me is going to do me any good, then you put too much faith into the system."

She shakes her head, "Hikawa-san, you can't just throw away your future like this..."

I start chuckling, then.

Not at her.

"Do you think all of this is _funny_?" she cries, shocked.

 _"Future..._ I haven't had a future in two goddamn years."

She looks pained, pitiful, like she can't bear to see this, and I can't stomach the sight of her condesension, "Hikawa-san, I know that you were trying to do the right thing—"

"There's no such thing as the _right thing_ , Niijima. What's the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?"

"What?"

"What's the hardest part of a vegetable to eat?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The wheelchair.”

“Wh-what the—?”

“Or, I guess in Kamoshida’s case, the hospital bed.” Suddenly I break out into laughter, and she looks at me like she doesn’t even know if I’m human.

"Hikawa-san—"

"The lovely student council president put more effort into finding the guy who drove Kamoshida to suicide, than actually putting a stop to Kamoshida himself. It's a rather bad look, don't you think?"

Niijima cringes and narrows her eyes.

But she exhales, calms herself down well enough to say, "I heard rumors. In passing. I didn't...," she leans back in her seat. "I'd see them, his students, walking out the nurse's office covered in bandages. I'd try to speak with them, ask them if there was anything I could do to help. They'd brush me aside, or ignore me, or tell me that everything was fine. And whenever I'd bring it up to Kobayakawa, he'd just...change the subject or treat it like it's something they just _had_ to deal with. _Athletes require intense amounts of training_ , or some variation of it."

"Fat tub of shit thinks it'd be better for the school to look good than for a rapist to be held accountable. And you acquiesced."

She raises her voice, sounding like she's on the verge of breaking, "Don’t you think I wish I could have done _something!?"_

"Of course there wasn't anything you could've done. That's the point."

Reason takes ahold again, but not enough to keep her mouth shut, "You're trying to deflect. Don't think I don't know when people—"

"Honestly, Niijima. I think everybody's too hard on you. You didn't do anything about Kamoshida, and how could you? Nobody would say shit to you, nobody trusted you enough, so you just straight up didn't know anything concrete. Kobayakawa wouldn't have done anything even when you did bring it up. And if ever you had a gut feeling, you couldn't just act on it, because the tallest nail gets hammered down."

"Don't you dare _pity_ me, you—"

"I'm not pitying you, I'm telling you the facts. I don't even blame you for Kamoshida. Nobody could have done a thing, because they would've gotten shitcanned. _Sakamoto_ did something. He stood up against that prick and for all his trouble his leg got snapped in two."

"Wh-what...?"

"What, that blonde vulgar delinquent piece of garbage, didn't you know that's what happened? Oh, but right. The _rumors_. Kamoshida insisted that he pulled self-defense on the guy when really, he instigated him into throwing a punch by mentioning his dad. Everyone ate that shit right up, didn’t even lift a finger to help him because they didn’t wanna be next. Kept their heads down like nothing had happened."

"How do you even know this...?"

"Guess you didn't talk to Sakamoto enough. Hell, I don't think you talk to the students much in general. You just follow 'em around all day cuz the principal tells you to."

She just tries biting back, but she can barely restrain the venom in her voice, "You don't know anything about my motives. You don't know anything about _me_."

"You're right. I don't know you. I don't know anyone in that school. But I do know that everybody joined hands _—_ whether because they were afraid, or because they wanted to improve their standing, or out of straight-up ignorance _—_ to make sure a kiddie rapist remained the star of Shujin."

"How can you say that!?" she cries, "They couldn't have done _anything_! Kamoshida would have ruined them, what could they have done!?"

"They had their reasons. But they didn't have to make themselves sound so goddamn pitiful about it. _What could I have done? He'll kill me_ , excuses excuses. Whining and protecting their oppressor even when they've got scars and welts on their faces. Made me sick just to look at them."

"Do you realize you're condemning Suzui, too!?" she shouted. " _Why_ even put a stop to Kamoshida at all!? If you think so little of the students, why did you even do what you did!?"

"I didn't do anything. But _if_ I did, it would've been because he was a sick piece of shit and he deserved far worse than what he got. Whoever drove him to kill himself didn't go far enough. Hell, I'd have loved to have helped in the torture, stuck the jump leads from a car battery to his balls for days."

She growls, eyes wide, her whole body trembling, “You’re insane.”

"No, it's evidence of sanity, more than anything else."

"You can't be serious."

“It isn’t crazy to want to kill everyone responsible for the state of the world, Niijima. It’s crazy when you don’t. I know you couldn't have done anything then, Niijima. But now you can. You can say _no_ to Kobayakawa. What the hell's he gonna do, _not_ give you a letter of recommendation? Is the word of someone like _him_ so goddamn important to you that you need to stuff your nose up his cheeks all the time? You _know_ he doesn't give a shit about you or anyone else, he just wants to make Shujin look good, even if it means letting kids get their asses bled by his _golden boy_. But of all the things you could do next, you just keep on doing whatever he tells you to. Like a _good student council prez,_ right?"

The anger isn't burning, just building inexorably, as though the only thing stopping her from caving my head in on the spot is the fact that the restaurant's surrounded with witnesses. "You think I'm doing this to impress him?"

"I don't see why not. Didn't go this far when Kamoshida was actually abusing students. Why else would you go this far now?"

"A teacher abused his students right under my nose and _someone_ drove him to confess and attempt suicide! _How could I not want to know the truth!?"_ she shouts, but then she pulls back, exhales, and recomposes herself. "I don't know what I expected, talking to you like this. After all, you're just some delinquent transfer student with a criminal record. You can't possibly understand what I _—"_

" _You can't possibly understand what I'm going through._ People like Kobayakawa and Kamoshida are able to live with themselves because they repeated that shit like a mantra. And why wouldn't they, in a place where their own students wouldn't raise a hand against them?"

Her eyes are cold, fierce, certain and true. "You made Suguru Kamoshida throw himself off the roof of the school. Didn’t you?”

I hiss, “I wish I had. Watching him crack his skull open on the goddamn grass made me feel alive for the first time in years. If he had abused someone I cared about the same way he abused Shiho Suzui, Ryuji Sakamoto, or anyone else who had been stuck under him, I’d do _whatever it took_ to get to him. Now. If there’s nothing else to talk about. I’d sincerely prefer it if you left me alone.”

I get myself the hell outta my seat and make my way to the door, but for the love of God she _has_ to get the last word in: “Like you actually have people you care about.”

I stop in my tracks. Suddenly I burst out in uproarious laughter so loud that I startle most people in the restaurant and cause a baby to cry, and I whirl around to face her, “That’s what the _hypothetically_ is for, _isn’t it_!?”

“Do you really think you can get away with—?"

“God, Niijima, you can dismiss me as criminal trash as much as you want. But let's actually say I am indeed responsible for Kamoshida throwing himself off the top of that roof,” I move closer to her, looming over her, "Then that would mean that I did far more for the school and its students in a goddamn week, than you ever did your entire tenure as student council president."

Suddenly the whole world goes sideways and my face lands on the table. The pain lasts for a second but the surprise lasts even longer, because I’m now covered in soda and burger while being held in exactly the same position as my father had kept me in back when I was still allowed in his home—

“You think I _wanted_ any of this!?” She seethes, her eyes now blazing red and searing through my own. “Every single day I worked under that bloated asshole I wanted nothing more than to scream in his face about how _he was letting his own students get hurt!”_

Security tries getting involved and everyone in the resto is just straight up shitting themselves but I keep laughing, “Sucks when the criminal does your job _better than you doesn't it—“ KKRK “—HAHAHAHAHAHA!”_

"Must be _nice_ to be up on your high horse, able to laugh at everyone down in the dregs for keeping their heads low. Unlike you, I have _everything_ to lose! You don't have the right to just sit there mocking me for _trying to fix the mess you left behind—!!"_

I laugh at her then, I laugh and laugh and laugh even as she grits her teeth and flares her eyes and pulls my arm up further and makes my shoulder creak open— “ _I heard your dad was a police officer._ ”

“Don’t you dare say a thing about my father!” She keeps on breaking my goddamn shoulder and I see that she wants to shatter me into pieces like nothing on Earth, 

“I know you wanna make him proud of you, Niijima _—_ but hell _, at least become a cop_ before engaging in police brutality. _"_

Her eyes widen, and she unhands me suddenly. My hand falls back down on the table and she rears back, absolutely horrified, "I...I didn't mean to..."

I laugh, prying myself off the table, the drink and foodstuff coating my face. Though my mouth smiles widely, my eyes tell a different story. I realize now she isn't scared of me; she's scared of _herself_ , and what she's just done.

Before I can say anything else she picks up her bag and runs away, covering her face as she flees out the front door.

After I'm sure she's gone, I make my way to the bathroom down in the subway and clean my face.

* * *

There is a dream I have, from time to time. And in the dream, I don't stop.

In the dream, I see them all. The murderers. The rapists. The psychos. The thieves. I see them all laughing. Everyone's laughing, everyone's crying. Dancing around each other, drowning in blood. There are people screaming in this gathering. People, innocent people. Men, women, children. They're all being dragged by the hairs and they're crying, they're crying as the monsters have their way with them as they see fit. And when I realize I have a knife in my hand, I decide I won't stop.

I made a promise earlier in the year to do everything in my power, ensure that dream _never_ becomes a reality. I decided to break that promise the instant I saw Shiho Suzui jump off the roof of the school.

Suguru Kamoshida was a horrible man who was able to drown out self-reflection because he spent all his time being inundated with praise. Nothing more than a mad dog that was fed biscuits every time he bit someone's head off. I threw that dog off the top of that same roof, but the fat bastard who fed him and let him loose is still out there. And what's more, he's willing to make a dog outta someone else to tear my head off for him.

So my mind was somewhere else before I realize I've already opened my phone and typed a couple names in.

**Palace Ruler: Sohei Kobayakawa**  
Palace Location: Shujin Academy  
Palace Distortion: 

I grip my phone and stuff it in my pocket again, "What the hell do you think you're _doing_ , Kazuya?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ADDED MORE MAKOTO SCENES FOR PACING PURPOSESSSSSSSSS
> 
> To everyone out there who thinks I have an anti Makoto bias, let it be known that I was actually pretty pissed when they gated me off from her confidant (cuz I was too ugly), and even when I was sure I'd romance KaSumire in Royal I ended up picking Makoto instead.
> 
> Makoto felt far more fleshed-out, well-written, and realistic on a level that I didn't quite feel with the other characters. That, and I connected with her desire to do the right thing being stifled by others' expectations of her, as well as her general lack of experience in social situations.
> 
> What I didn't quite like, however, was how the game had her immediately become a fast friend to the rest of the Phantom Thieves even before Kaneshiro's Palace was over and done with. It felt kind of bizarre, in a way that took me quite a while to put into words. I felt it would've been far more satisfying if the Thieves remained somewhat standoffish with her for a little while longer, at the very least until they actually beat Kaneshiro. That small conversation with Ann in the student council room was a nice little moment, but I feel like it could have been more meaningful if the Thieves were there to share into that conversation as well. Something like the hotpot dinner with Yusuke after Madarame's Palace, where as the story winds down from the action the characters discuss the situation and smooth over any lingering tensions.
> 
> Granted, Makoto does apologize repeatedly for her actions, and there's enough context given in the story as to why the Thieves would forgive her so easily. I fully admit, it's just a personal little grievance I had with the pacing.
> 
> That said. Part of the reason why the Thieves are so forgiving of Makoto in the first place is because they are actively searching for new targets to take down, and Makoto's actions (however reckless) did get them exactly that.
> 
> So how would the situation go, if the MC was actively trying NOT to go back into Palaces at all?


	21. Belphegor, Slothful Lord of the Hollow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **"I-I'm afraid...! I've always just been afraid!"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for deleting everyone's comments. Deleted the chapter because all the changes I added I felt necessitated it. Thought this worked like ff.net, where if I deleted the chapter it would somehow keep the comments from the non-existent chapter. Don't know why I thought it would do that lol :P Guess that'll teach me to look at things before I click stuff

**5 / 18 / 2016**

It's hard for me to see, even though I know my eyes are wide open. I can feel nothing below my neck, and the only thing I hear is a droning noise comparable to static. The act of blinking is enough to shoot sparks into my head. The world keeps on spiralling out, fading and solidifying and not knowing what to do with itself. Noises grow louder and then quiet down again. I keep remembering gunfire. Strands of smoke in the air, concrete being kicked up; I hear screaming, but I don't know whose voice it is. I can feel my insides shiver, my bones strain, my heart banging against my ribcage. There's something grabbing my heart and pulling it down, making it sink into a bottomless well of nothing.

The world makes sense just enough for me to find that my skull's throbbing, a buzzing noise passing through my ears. My stomach feels like it's been thwacked by a baseball bat seven times over. As far as I can tell nothing on me's injured that badly, probably just a wound or two here and there. But the pain's enough to keep me awake for likely the next few hours.

I find that I'm seated in the middle of a packed train car. The car rumbles and my body shifts as it moves along the tracks. It's morning. My left hand aches horribly, it won't stop shaking and I think a tooth is loose. Nothing makes sense and everything's fucked. I wiggle my arm around in the cramped space I've been given to try and pull up my phone out my pocket-

-and feeling around there makes me realize that two of my ribs on the left side are gone. Not broken, gone, but I feel no pain whatsoever. As if it'd been healed up.

I pull open my phone, checking the date and time. May 18, 2016, eight o'clock AM. Why is the screen of my phone cracked all a sudden? Do not lose it. Do not look at yourself from somewhere else again. Keep your eyes here and now, you stupid piece of shit.

I nearly break down right then and there because I make myself cycle through the apps on my phone till I can open the Navigator, and when I do I pull up the log and I see three entries.

**「 PALACE LOG 」**

**I. 5 / 17 / 2016 - PR: Sohei Kobayakawa | PL: Shujin Academy | PD: Prison**   
**II. 4 / 11 / 2016 - PR: Suguru Kamoshida | PL: Shujin Academy | PD: Castle**   
**III. 12 / 24 / 2015 - PR: Kana Kohaku | PL: The World | PD: Hell**

When the hell did I figure out Kobayakawa's distortion?

I tap the first entry.

**ERROR: PALACE has been ERASED.**

That can't be right.

I tap it again.

**ERROR: PALACE has been ERASED.**

Again and again and again.

**ERROR: PALACE has been ERASED, PALACE has been ERASED, PALACE has been ERASED.**

Once I get off the train and head into school I immediately rush to the restroom. I pull open my shirt in the mirror to find that whenever I breathe in, my skin sinks right where the two ribs should be. There are scars there, quite large and craggly, but healed pretty much completely. The knuckles on my left hand are sore beyond belief; not so painful that I'd be unable to hold a pencil, but painful enough such that whenever my fingers would bend in any fashion agony would screech across my arm.

I make it ten minutes past the start of class and my current teacher, a fat old fossil with graying hair and a gravelly voice, condescends and informs me (delinquent that I am) that I shouldn't be so bold as to be late--but I stop hearing him after like a few seconds because I'm busy wondering where the hell my ribs went, and why I can't remember most of what happened yesterday, why Kobayakawa's Palace is gone alla sudden, why everything around me feels like it's sinking and crumbling and trembling like an earthquake.

I barely manage to keep myself from puking even though I now feel her and see her and she doesn't say a word, I feel her hairs covering my face, snaking around my arms and my legs and keeping me bolted on the spot, she drapes her arms over me and sometimes I see them as pale and white and bleeding and other times I see them skinned open and laid bare, she's humming all the time some bullshit lullaby I'd heard her sing to Masako while the girl was still alive, a third of the time she sounds like her and the other two thirds she sounds like the goddamned Whore in her Palace.

Once the last class reaches its end I march my way through a hallway which only keeps on going on and on and on. People pass me by, fragments of themselves, glass stands that will shatter the moment I touch them. Cold, unfeeling, unmoving. They don't matter. None of them matter. All that matters is that I need to get home. I'm walking; but the hallway I'm in won't ever ever end. Every step I take the end just keeps going a thousand feet away from me. I must keep walking, must never stop running.

Now, the hallway I'm in twists and turns on itself and what once was concrete and stone transforms into something unknowable. Lockers turn into arms. Windows turn into eyes. Wooden floorboards turn into thousands of bodies. I hear screaming noises, women and children of course. And all the things they could have said, should have said, had not said; they sound like they're being boiled alive and they're calling for help, the children, they're asking where Daddy is and why he's not here to save them.

The glass people transform into ceramic things, like angels; they laugh at me despite not moving at all, they cheer me on, call me a Prince, more fitting to be a Jester; they jitter and crack as they jitter but laugh at me all the while, and their laughs sound like car batteries exploding and fetuses strangling themselves by their umbilical cords in their mothers' wombs.

And I am back in the land of hellfire, back in the world where people are burning because a thousand-foot tall curse is writhing about like a monster, shooting nuclear tides of nightmare from its unsightly seven maws. She's in my arms again she's in my bed she's writhing she's screaming and she's gone again. Her daughter's in my arms she's reading a book she's crying and being dropped and she's dead again. Her mother's smiling at me and she's treating me with some modicum of respect and she's giving me a ticket and she's killing everything in a wash of red again.

The red burns through my eyes, burrowing into myself.

And as I leave Shujin, I stand outside the school gates, hollow and shivering.

I know you hate me. I now what you're making me do, goddammit, leave me the hell alone or I swear to God I'll pry open your grave and burn your corpse you lying bitch--

\--but of course you'll never leave me, will you. I can never let you leave me. Not even for a single goddamned second of a single goddamned day.

So if you're gonna stand there and laugh at me the whole goddamn time, will you at least let me remember where I was twenty-four hours ago?

* * *

.

.

.

**5 / 17 / 2016**

After that whole kerfluffle with Niijima in the burger joint, I went back home and tracked the names of every single teacher from Shujin into the Nav. None of them had a Palace nor a Kingdom, save Snorlax.

Principal Sohei Kobayakawa's deliberate negligence over Kamoshida's actions is so utterly obvious it's embarrassing. When I introduced myself to him way back when, he made it perfectly clear he didn't want anything to do with a criminal, so any perceived infractions on my part he'll instantly use against me. Whatever my father's paying him, it won't matter once the evidence crops up and I'll be forced right back into jail.

I've already set myself on a crash collision back to jail. Niijima's definitely gonna present all her evidence to Kobayakawa and I can expect to be outta here sooner rather than later. Kobayakawa will expel me and throw me back into a cell for the shit I obviously did to Kamoshida. Sakamoto and Yoshizawa and Niijima and all the rest o' them will laugh their asses off as I'm carried away in cuffs.

And you know what, maybe I do deserve to go back to prison. If anything I deserve worse than prison. But he doesn't deserve to walk freely among the students he should've protected. He shoved his goddamned head in the sand and let Kamoshida use the whole student body as his cum rag. All I need to do is figure out what the hell his distortion is. Come what may, if I'm going down, I'm taking him down with me.

Or maybe I could just forget he has anything at all.

Get expelled and live out the rest of my life as a hikikomori and die alone in Maruki's basement. Never change another man's heart as long as I live and actually keep my goddamn promises for once.

I see her more now, than ever before. Whenever I run dry of things keeping me busy, whenever I think back to Kamoshida's Palace and the shit that went on there I remember. These days every time I do my left hand trembles again and I start drifting, seeing myself from the skies. Takes me all my concentration to come back to myself. Without fail, whenever I regain myself I find I'm on the verge of punching my arms through every window in sight. She doesn't ever speak to me. Not these days, anyway. Just glaring upon me, demanding that I keep floundering in my meager existence.

Is this how I'm gonna solve all my disagreements? Every single time a wild asshole appears, do I just make them kill themselves? Or do I let myself get cast aside into obscurity again, allow Takamaki and Yoshizawa and Sakamoto's standing in the school to worsen by their mere association with me, let Kobayakawa continue on unpunished?

Or, I could just turn myself in and make a deal with Niijima and Kobayakawa, ensure that the other three remain safe.

Joking, of course. Like I'd give them the satisfaction-

"You alright?" Takamaki asks me, suddenly, arms folded over the back of her chair again.

I only realize now that it's lunchtime. Most of the room has left for either the cafeteria or the courtyard, and those who remain are too far a distance to be able to hear me. "I'm alright."

She smirks, "No, you're not. What's up? Is it Niijima again?"

I could tell her about Kobayakawa, and how utterly fucked I am. I could tell her that I'm busy deliberating on whether or not I should invade another man's Palace and risk his suicide. I could tell her that I've prolly screwed myself with Niijima and how I'm freaking out, how I don't goddamn know what the hell to do next because I still see Kana and she isn't leaving me and I have a feeling if I do this then she and Masako'll never leave me again and I'll never ever be free of seeing them in my dreams in my memories in the walls of the goddamn living room-

But that would mean dragging her and them into the exact same shit I brought them in ages ago.

And it might mean actually talking about Kana.

"It's nothing," I yawn. "Just a little...tired."

She immediately smells bullshit, "What, from work at the flower shop?"

"Been looking for other jobs recently. Found one in Yongen-Jaya. A coffee shop. Guy has me doing custodial work all night."

She doesn't fully buy it, but decides to let it be for now. "Alright, then. Just tell me if there's anything I can do."

Too many people who are too nice for their own good have a habit of getting involved in the shit I pull. "Sure."

No more.

* * *

Kana and I are outside, talking at the front gates of the school. I am shrugging her off and getting in the car. Then we're on the rooftop, where I deduce she has a child keeping her from doing well from her studies. Then I'm with Masako, playing with her, reading The Little Prince as Kana sleeps on the kotatsu.

Then she and I are playing Gun About. She and I are on the train. I'm telling her I like her and she's inviting me to Destiny Land. I'm happy. Singing in the rain. A red eye is in my phone now. Then the red happens. Red. All of it red. His skull burst open on the concrete. My first victim.

Trial. Her until the end, terrified of me. She is lying on the ground and her baby is on the ground and her mother and it's a massacre it's a massacre of unimaginable horror. She's dying and her baby's in pain but we have to get out.

I'm watching over Masako's little body being torn to shreds. I remember after Kana had been cremated, I had her and her daughter's ashes mixed and spread out over Tokyo Bay. Kana had expressed a desire to go to the beach once, while we studied and while I entertained thoughts of her being my girlfriend, thoughts that at the time I believed had no chance of coming true.

I never wanted to be a good person, I never cared. Not before her. She'd just rouse that in you. And I was so desperate, so desperate to keep that and so desperate to save her that in the end, I ended up destroying everything.

I said I'd never enter another Palace again, and the second I ran into an irredeemable asshole I decided, to hell with it. At the end of the day, people like Kamoshida and Kobayakawa are as far removed from somebody like Kana as anything could ever be. And the assholes in that school aren't much better. The liars, the pretenders all putting on their faces and acting as if nothing was wrong. Then the controversy struck and the news hit and the tabloids stormed the premises, and all the students all said shit about how they didn't even know, how nobody knew, and how those who knew were all so scared—but all all they did was cower and cover their faces until the King got guillotined.

None of this is about being a good person. None of this is about being a good anything. This is because nothing's changed at all. There's still monsters abusing their power and ignorant masses just letting it all happen. Kana would want me to throw my phone down and run away from all of this and never look back.

But Kana's dead. Even though her corpse is looking at me right now. She's not in Heaven, watching over me in horror, because there is no Heaven and there is no Hell—there's just this shit and goddammit if you're not dealing with this shit you don't have the right to tell me anything about right or wrong.

When you said you were a curse, I brushed it off as quickly as it came. But when I saw it in all its gargantuan blasphemy, I was brought to my knees. Did I try saving you because I loved you? Or did I try saving you, because I couldn't bear to see you sad? Did I try saving you because I cared about you? Was it because I couldn't stand the pain I felt, upon seeing you so destroyed?

Or was it because I resented you for seeing me for what I truly was?

I'm in a different alleyway, back end of the school.

It's good for me that Niijima decided not to follow me around today. She's probably discussing everything with Kobayakawa, as I stand here. Meaning that whatever happens, happens now.

Whatever happens, happens now.

Who am I kidding, I've gotta get home, gotta get outta here, gotta stop thinking about Palaces all the goddamn time and live my life, you stupid piece of shit stop don't you dare--

"Castle."

**No Candidates Found**

Okay. That's your try for the day. "Home."

**No Candidates Found**

Kazuya you dense motherfucker I said "Church."

**No Candidates Found**

Goddammit fine, for now, "Shelter."

**No Candidates Found**

Guy didn't want me to disrupt anything when I first arrived here. Gotta think outside the box. "City?"

**No Candidates Found**

"Paradise?"

**No Candidates Found**

Come on. "Office?"

**No Candidates Found**

Tell me already so I can go home. "Playground? Dungeon? Hell?"

**No Candidates Found, No Candidates Found, No Candidates Found**

Think, goddammit, think. Guy's chosen not to out Kamoshida to keep up the school's reputation, so the school must be important to him in some way. But he doesn't give a damn about the welfare of the students in the slightest. Palaces are a manifestation of their Rulers' suppressed feelings and emotions and desires. If someone like Kamoshida could repress so much of his guilt that he formed a Palace out of it, Kobayakawa's definitely got some negative feelings of his own.

Maybe I'm going about it all wrong. Maybe the school's important to him, but for all the wrong reasons.

"...prison."

**Palace Confirmed**

Okay, you've had yours for the day. Now stuff your goddamn phone in your pocket or throw it away and never go back into Palaces again.

**Would You Like to Enter?**   
**Y/N**

I swear to God that if you hit Y right now I will--

**Beginning Navigation.**

I careen my skull into the brick wall to my left and the pain is such that I let out a scream that ought to be heard even throughout all the inner halls of the school.

* * *

There is a dream I have, from time to time. And in the dream, I don't stop.

I see them all. Each and every one of them, poisoning the world, killing it faster each day.

Dancing around each other, drowning in blood. They're against each other, against the walls, screaming out blasphemies and lies. There are people screaming in this gathering. People, innocent people. Men, women, children. They're all being dragged by the hairs and they're crying, they're crying as the monsters have their way with them as they see fit. I hear sounds I never thought could emerge out of any human being.

And when I realize I have a knife in my hand, I decide I won't stop.

The school is painted a dark dull grey color, stained with dried blood and wastrel all over the walls. The windows are barred with rusted steel, the doors to the classrooms made of lead. Within each room, teachers and students alike bear faces without eyes, mouths, noses, hair or ears. When they speak they do so in a language I can't even fathom. Each of them have their left leg shackled to a black ball, all of them wearing black-and-white striped uniforms.

Shadows wearing cop outfits stand at attention outside the doors and when they see me they transform into their beastly selves but Satanael makes quick work of them. Even as their guts paint the windows and the halls, none of the people inside the classrooms even react to the massacres happening outside their doorstep.

By the end of it all the halls are filled with guts and gore. So much so that the only reason it takes me thirty minutes to make it to the principal's office is because it's surprisingly time-consuming to wade your way through a hallway coated body parts, especially while wearing a longcoat that goes all the way down to your shins.

Of course the principal's office is another cell. When I blast the door down I see my overweight principal rearing back in horror at the sight of me. He isn't a warden, he doesn't have a fancy suit like the villain from Shawshank, he's got on him a striped uniform of his own as well as another ball-and-chain clamped around his left leg. Of all the people in his little mental world, he's the one with a face.

**"Wh-what...!? What're you—!? Who are you!?"**

I don't answer him as I look at everything in his cell. Despite him being a prisoner in his own school, his hole still looks like an office. Bookshelves on the left and right. Fancy curtains at his back. Books and folders, numerous and stacked right on top of each other, piled up into paper towers surrounding his desk.

Maybe he isn't a criminal. Maybe he's just a horribly negligent piece of shit who likes good publicity, so much so he was willing to cover up Kamoshida's abuses. But is that the case? Is that really all there is to it? Why would he go so far to cover it up? Hell, if anything the reputation of Shujin might go up in some circles if it came out the principal outed Kamoshida himself. Shows integrity on part of the staff.

Maybe he's just fat and stupid and lazy. But I've to see if there's anything more.

I have to know.

I start pulling down all the books from his shelves, **"Stop it, you can't just barge in here! H-how did you get past my guards!?"**

I don't answer him as I start kicking down the paper towers and start plying my way through the books and folders, looking for evidence of some sort. Kamoshida had a Bible made about him, Kobayakawa's bound to have something.

The first book I pull up has the name Eiko Takao written in gold-plate on the front, a picture of a young girl with long brown hair on the cover.

I expect to find within another tale of horrible sexual abuse written within, and the thought of this fat piece of shit getting it on with one of his own students is enough to make me sick. But what I do end up finding is something else entirely.

**"Wait, wait! Stop, please...!"**

It takes a considerable amount of effort to pry it open, but I do.

Inside lies a little white bag, kept in a rectangle hollow that had been carved into the book's own pages.

I rip open the bag. White powder pours down.

**"You can't do this, you can't just--!"**

All it takes is a glare and he shuts the hell up.

I pry open every single goddamn book I can find in this place and all of them have white bag upon white bag of drugs. All the while Kobayakawa sits there like a bitch, watching as I completely unravel everything. By the end of it the floor's scattered in dozens of white bags and hollowed out books of various sizes. Each goddamn book I pull out has a name and a face attached. All of them are children my own age. But eight of them are from Shujin, judging from the uniforms the students within the photos on the front wear.

Three of them are empty. The ones with the names Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, and Kasumi Yoshizawa.

I glare at Kobayakawa's Shadow. The terror in his golden eyes fades but never disappears, as he gets up out his seat and tries to act intimidating. **"You don't understand. Whatever you think it is I'm responsible for, I've done only what I've had to to keep this school afloat. I won't allow you to undo my efforts, the sacrifices I've made to keep this prison intact. Don't you see? Everything I've done here is in the name of--"**

I summon Satanael and have him point the gun to his face. "Who told you were in a position to allow anything?"

* * *

Kobayakawa's Shadow tells me everything.

By the time I realize what the hell I'm doing, I'm already stomping my way through the halls of the school in the real world.

But when I get to where I need to go I hear more than one voice inside.

"How are things going in regard to that matter we spoke of earlier?"

"I...have nothing to report yet."

"Nothing? Absolutely nothing at all? How many students are there who could provoke a teacher?"

"I've already narrowed it down. I just can't seem to find any solid evidence."

Wait. Wait a fucking minute. Do not barge in just yet. See what he says to that.

I hear Kobayakawa groan and Niijima says, "You knew, didn't you? About Mr. Kamoshida sexually harassing students?"

Kobayakawa says nothing.

"Sir!"

"What will come of you asking that?"

"This investigation is for a just cause, correct!?"

"I believe I understand how flustered this must be making you. I'm sure it was truly shocking for you as student council president to see a peer attempt suicide, as well as Mr. Kamoshida himself, all so suddenly..."

"Yes..."

"We must provide a school environment where all students can feel at ease. That is the most pressing issue we have at the moment. That is where I stand. I suggest you devote your energy to the task at hand, not unnecessary questions."

"A school environment where the students can feel at ease. Is that really your only reason for investigating Mr. Kamoshida's suicide attempt?"

I kick open the door to Kobayakawa's office and he's of course surprised by my sudden intrusion, but not enough to conceal his contempt. Niijima's stunned, but like always she's fucking oblivious.

"Hikawa-san," Kobayakawa growls, "I'd like to advise you not to barge into this office without--"

I shut the door behind me and immediately make my way to the shelf on my left. Unlike the one in his Palace, the shelf has its books locked away by glass panes, requiring a key to open them.

_KKRACK_

Niijima immediately gets out of her seat, "H-Hikawa-san!?"

"Wait, what are you doing--!?" Kobayakawa realizes too late that he's screwed.

It's hard to punch through glass panes, especially when you're skinny as all hell. But either the glass or the bones will give way.

Niijima grabs me by the shoulders, desperately calling out to me as my knuckles pour red "Stop! Wait, please! Don't--!"

_SMASH_

" _Stop it_!" Kobayakawa shouts, getting up out his seat.

He pushes me against the wall, gripping me by collar and hoisting me up, eyes furious and bulging right out his head.

Couldn't even break through the glass in time.

"Took you long enough to get off your ass."

"Shut your mouth. You haven't any right to—to come here and destroy my property, acting like you own this school when—"

"You don't even own this school, you think it's your prison."

He bristles in horror and anger and absolute anguish, "None of you could possibly understand what it means to be a man in my position. I do what I must in order to keep the future of this school as well as its students safe and secure."

"Right, because having your own students commit crimes for you was super necessary to keep Shujin alive, wasn't it?"

He drops me harshly to the ground, "You will refer to me as Principal Kobayakawa, young man—"

"I will refer to you as shut the fuck up, you little pissant," I cough and hack and laugh and laugh and laugh.

"I hold your future in my hands, boy. If you think...if you think you can intimidate me, then you've—"

"What, did you get your rocks off by havin' the kids who called you Dumpling get carted off into drug dens? What the hell were you thinking, throwing your lot in with yakuza?"

His hands are trembling and he's sweating profusely now, his face stretching into a malicious scowl that doesn't conceal his terror in the slightest. "Shut your mouth, you little shit, or I swear to God I'll inform your father about—"

"I don't care about what the hell my dad has to say," I rise up and glare at him, "but I bet you care about what Makoto Niijima and her sister'll have to say about you using your students to—"

" _SHUT YOUR MOUTH_!!!"

Niijima stammers out, "P-Principal Kobayakawa...?"

"That's why you let Kamoshida go as long as you did. Reason you wanted Niijima to investigate me is because you needed somebody to drive media attention away from your own failures."

Unhinged and unmoored, Kobayakawa whirls back around to face me and grips my collar, "Now you listen to me. You haven't a single clue how much I've sacrificed to get this far! How much I've had to bend my back over to keep this school safe!"

"Stop pretending like you give a shit about the school," I snarl back. "It's over, you fat fuck. Password to your laptop back home is 12345. You'd think you'd make more of an effort to encrypt your shit. Cops are gonna procure all your shit and there'll be nowhere you can hide."

"I will destroy you. I have friends, friends in high places, high enough such that your father won't ever be able to touch them OR me! You think you can barge in here and judge me after everything you've done!? I'll ruin your life, I'll ruin your friends' lives, not a single one of them will be spared—!"

"Do you think you're in the position to be making threats?" I glare at him.

His hands tremble again and the rage is swallowed by everything he tried to keep down. "Wh-what...? Do you even know what I've done to come this far!?"

"I know you're a coward whose bark exceeds his bite. This isn't a prison. Isn't even a damn school. It's Hiroshima, 1945. And I'm Little Boy."

It's at this point he realizes exactly what I'm about to do to him. "No, NO WAIT PLEASE, THEY'LL KILL ME— !"

I knee him in his balls and rush the hell out of the room, before Niijima can even get her hands on me. Once I make my way to the end of the hall and pull up round the corner, I open my phone.

**Beginning Navigation.**

* * *

.

.

.

**5 / 27 / 2016**

Word broke out on the news on the night of the 19th.

"Sohei Kobayakawa, principal of the Tokyo-based private school Shujin Academy, was the victim of a hit-and-run. Witnesses claim that he was approaching a police station that day, only for a truck to fatally swerve into him. There are conflicting eyewitness reports on whether or not he stood still in the middle of the road and allowed the truck to hit him, or if the vehicle had moved too quickly for him to register. The prevailing view is that Kobayakawa stopped himself in the middle of the road, facing the truck as it closed in..."

This time police officers are brought in to Shujin itself. Guy approaching a police station, only to suddenly get hit by a car on the road is enough to cause even more suspicion, especially coming hot off the heels of Kamoshida's abuse case. The cops are called in to investigate the shit that'd been going on from behind closed doors. And they find it.

Vice-principal Kinsuke Sawamura, now taking over where Kobayakawa had left off, decides to let the cops investigate, and cancels classes for the week. It takes about that much time for them to procure all the drugs Kobayakawa had kept in stock, under lock-and-key, on school grounds. School's faced even more media and cops up its ass than ever before.

Apparently Kobayakawa had books kept in stock, not just in the shelf I'd broken, but also in the library. He was able to keep them secret because each shelf held enough space for three rows of books.

He kept the books with drugs packed in them smack-dab in the middle, having removed the spine on each of them. Thus when someone would remove a book from one side or another, all they'd see on the other end were another row of books. No one was the wiser.

Today was the day we students return to school. Amidst all the controversy and the shock and the gossip goin' round about how our principal was a drug trafficker before his untimely death.

I'm in the courtyard, on a bench, once classes end.

Kana has been watching me over the past ten days. Without fail. She watches me when I try to sleep. She watches me when I try to study. She watches me and Maruki as we cook. She watches me when I try to watch TV, or go on my laptop, or read, or do anything.

She watches me from all sides, her green eyes piercing through me like a thousand spears, her eyes are now voided of anything and everything, I see Masako on the walls in the ceiling in the floorboards and the carpet, her head caved open and her body scattered and left to the ants and I see her looking at me while missing the lower half of her jaw-I'm taken all the way back to that goddamn night where I bashed Shido's head in and her face then, her face now, the face she has on right now as she glares at me-

"What the fuck are you trying to do to me, huh?"

Trynna make me feel guilty over this shit. He and Kamoshida were sick assholes, if anything I oughta have done worse to them than I did. Should I have just let 'em saunter the fuck on, without doing a single goddamn thing? Like everyone who knew and didn't do shit? This isn't like what happened with you, not even a little. You deserved to live, both of you did. Neither of them deserved to even be goddamn born.

_I got all this blood on your hands._

No, I did. I did, why can't you accept that? Even after all this time, you still keep blaming yourself?

_The whole time...as you beat him down, into the pavement. You were smiling._

How the hell else should I have felt? What, you think I'd be sad to drive these pieces of shit to suicide? Do you think I'd be so stupid?

_I saw what you were doing, what you looked like. I thought that you'd...changed._

I did change. Of course I changed, you changed too. Or perhaps you never changed at all. Perhaps that's what you always were, deep down, and I was so goddamn blind and stupid I either couldn't or didn't wanna see any of it.

Then again, maybe I never changed, either. Maybe this is who I've always been, since the day I was born.

_I'm so sorry for what I've done._

Stop it, stop talking. You should never have even met me. The day you approached me in that hallway I should've said something horrible to you and driven you away. I'm a monster.

_I'd hate for you to think that what happened to me is somehow your fault._

I wanted you to be free. I wanted us to be free. But I think more than anything else, I wanted to be free of the pain I had felt, seeing you tearing yourself apart and not able to do anything to stop it. The reason you died wasn't just because you were depressed, or traumatized, or a victim of horrible violence.

It was because I was willing to take away your freedom for my own.

I didn't care about any of Kamoshida or Kobayakawa's victims. I never did. More than anything else they were fuel for my own selfish goddamn desire. Even when I held Shiho Suzui's arms in my own, all I could think of was Kana. Even when I knew Kobayakawa planned to have Sakamoto, Takamaki, and Yoshizawa become fodder for drug lords, all I could think of was how I failed someone else once before, and how I couldn't afford to do it again.

Brutalizing Shido. Torturing Kamoshida. Attacking Kobayakawa. I didn't do all that because I cared about their victims. I did all that because I hated them and what they were doing, what they planned to do, what they had done and were going to do to people that I knew.

Excuses and hate, those are all I'm good for.

I haven't changed at all.

All this time I've been ending up in the same place over and over again.

Everything I done, I've done for myself.

"Ryuji, wait—!"

"What the hell did you do."

I lift my head to see Sakamoto standing over me, Takamaki behind him with a worried expression. Yoshizawa stands by his other side, face utterly neutral.

"Nothing."

"Bullshit!" he grabs me by the collar of my shirt. "Don't you condescend to me now, you egotistical selfish sick piece of shit, I oughta beat your head in 'til you eat out of a goddamn straw for the rest of your life!"

"Ryuji, stop, just stop—"

"What the hell's the matter with you!? Once ya got a taste of Kamoshida, you just couldn't help but throw yourself to another one, huh? You expect me to believe you had nothing to do with Kobayakawa!?"

Takamaki stops trying to pull him away, and turns to me looking all concerned. Yoshizawa's eyes have grown firmer, stronger, harsher than I'd ever seen them before. And for all his anger, all his fury, Sakamoto's hands tremble even as he tries keeping them tight around my collar.

I say to them, "He used to be yakuza."

"What...?" mutters Sakamoto.

"In his younger years he would pick and choose students to target. Every time, he'd pick a student who was doing poorly, either financially or grades-wise. He and his dealer buddies would offer them a job and out of desperation they'd accept."

"Oh my God...," Takamaki clasps a hand around her mouth.

"He made connections with some high ranking assholes in the government, and once he did he had his past erased and started up a whole goddamn school. Decided to live an honest life beginning in the nineties, started up Shujin to help with that, but there's no retirement in the yakuza. You're in it for life. So over the decade he's worked as a principal he's had various students of his own school pass drugs around for him. He'd stuff crack, crystal meth, and marijuana into hollowed out books. Have them running around Shibuya trading them to his people. He only picked out a few at a time, and nobody would give a shit because they were bottom-rung delinquent kids who weren't showing up to school anyway, so no one would notice if they one day just up and vanished entirely. Which they all ended up doing. Some, sooner than others."

"Is this for real...?" asks Sakamoto. "You can't be..."

"He's curbed it better these days because Makoto Niijima's sister is a prosecutor. So if Niijima smelt too much bullshit in the air he couldn't just get away with it. That's the reason why he didn't do shit about Kamoshida. He knew that if the school was investigated by cops they'd figure out his involvement in the drug trade. But then after we made Kamoshida confess, that garnered more attention from the press and the cops than ever before. That's why he tried to have Niijima investigate me, so that when the time came he'd pin everything on me. Bring up my criminal record. Since my dad's the head of a massive corporation it would cause an even bigger shitstorm, but he knew the media would care more about big business scandals than some school in the middle of bumfuck Tokyo."

"W-wait, wait, but what if Niijima ended up catching wind of the operation while he had her investigating you?"

"He knew she would be a skeptic but only up to a point. She's a kiss-ass, so as long as he doesn't let on anything particularly big, she's no danger to him. Bosses have been reaming him in calls, telling him if he doesn't get the media offa Shujin's back they'll kill his children and stuff their bodies in oil drums full of acid. He's in a shitty situation, he's bound to take stupid risks and leaps in logic. And to be fair to him it almost worked."

"Why didn't you tell us anything...?" Takamaki asks. "We could've helped you."

"I didn't want you to," I chuckle. "I dragged you into so much shit already. But hell. I guess it's also because I didn't want any of you to stop me."

"You asshole," Sakamoto unhands me. "You couldn't try to leave him alive!? You just—you just had to make him—"

"I didn't have to do anything at all. I just did it. I wanted to do it."

"Why!? Goddammit, why!?"

"Why not?" I glare at him. "Honestly. Why not? Because it's _wrong_?"

" _YES, YOU DENSE_ —"

"And who decides that, huh? The gym teacher who used his reputation and clout to cover up his abuses of the people under his watch. The principal who made kids drug-runners and crushed their futures, protecting a rapist to save his fat ass. The courts who threw me into jail for bashing open the skull of some asshole who was attacking my girlfriend. And you have the audacity to tell me what's right from wrong."

Sakamoto rears back as I march forward and Takamaki and Yoshizawa look horrified at what they see—

"You, the guy who said he didn't care about what happened to Kamoshida and then pissed himself when he jumped off the top o' that roof? All your crying and bitching about how I threw him off— when all you did was ride off my coattails and whine about how much of a asshole I was the whole way through. Forget right and wrong. The whole reason you even wanted to get rid o' Kamoshida was because he ruined your life, and a sick asshole like him couldn't get away with it. But when push came to shove you wavered like all the rest, falling back on right and wrong, the same shit that got you into that mess in the first place."

"So it's okay if you do worse to them than they ever did to anyone else, is that your logic?" asks Yoshizawa, pushing herself between us both. "You think you can just do whatever you want, so long as you drag people like them down along with you?"

"They had it coming for all their lives."

"What happens when someone decides you have it coming, too?"

"Then they'd better not chicken out halfway through."

"Do you want that...?" she growls, the horror in her eyes giving way to sadness.

I give a small, nigh imperceptible smile, even though all I really want is to break down and scream. "Yoshizawa. All I want...is for the whole world to forget that I ever existed."

The red burns through my eyes, into my lungs, burrowing into myself. She ought to dance on my grave, and if I have to burn in fire if that means she'll reach Heaven then fine. Fine. Fine. Let it happen, let me burn forever and ever.

Just give them back.

I brush past them, once I've said my piece, the seams keeping my brain intact becoming more and more undone. The droning noise that's popped in my head periodically these past few weeks is back with a vengeance, keeping me locked up inside my own head.

Meaning I'm unable to notice Makoto Niijima leaning against a nearby wall, her phone having recorded the whole conversation.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

**5 / 17 / 2016**

There is a dream I have, from time to time. And in the dream, I don't stop.

In the dream, I see them all. The murderers. The rapists. The psychos. The thieves.

Each and every one of them, poisoning the world, killing it faster each day. I see them all laughing, drowning in their hedonism and malaria. Everyone's laughing, everyone's crying. They're all in this orgiastic mass, naked. Dancing around each other, drowning in blood. They're against each other, against the walls, screaming out blasphemies and lies. There are people screaming in this gathering. People, innocent people. Men, women, children. None of them take up arms. None of them raise blades or guns or knives; they cower and cringe and weep as they're taken, them and their families.

They're all being dragged by the hairs and they're crying, they're crying as the monsters have their way with them as they see fit. I hear sounds I never thought could emerge out of any human being.

And when I realize I have a knife in my hand, I decide I won't stop.

Fountains spill from their bodies. Red, spraying out like a pipe had burst open. The revelry stops. And they see. And they run. But I catch them. I catch them all. I grind their bones into the palms of my hands. Blood everywhere, organs flying out their stomachs like birds fleeing their cages. The knife reaches everyone. Nothing matters. Nothing matters at all. My hand never stops holding the knife, and the knife just keeps getting redder and redder.

All over the walls, all over the world. The monsters, once enjoying themselves in their depravity, now screaming and running and pleading for the God they had once blasphemed against to save them. And when it's all over, I see the victims glowering at me, enraged and horrified all at once. They see me, and they are abhorred at the horns that've grown on my head, at the claws that've sprouted from my nails, at the meat dripping down my teeth and the dark coat of fur spread over my whole body. When I see them, I speak.

I tell them that I am the monster they birthed when they kept their mouths shut, eyes closed, ears covered. I am the beast born of their cowardice, their terror, their refusal to take up arms and fight for their own freedom. I tell them that because of their fear, they allowed their fathers and brothers, mothers and sisters, sons and daughters, to be butchered alongside them. I tell them that they too are monsters, and as I march over the corpses of their families, as they rear back and weep and mourn and plead for forgiveness, as I laugh and laugh and laugh until tears of blood start pooling out my eyes--

\--I do unto them what they had always deserved.

So I blow open the heads off the Shadows inside Kobayakawa's Palace. I fill the hallways with the blood from the monsters inside his own mind.

I make a charge directly for him and by the time I've gotten back to his office I've killed every single monster inside his head.

It's finally here and now where the Shadow transforms into its truest and most terrible form, an obese purple horned demon with massive eyes and sharp teeth, disease ravaging his arms and legs. In his fury he tries for one final stand. He smacks me hard in the face, tears out a good portion of my side. But it's all utterly fruitless.

 **"I-I'm afraid...!"** he cries, missing more than half his face while trying to raise up his only remaining arm. **"I've always just been afraid! Please don't kill me!!!"**

I stretch my hand out towards the Treasure, a trophy from 2007.

Reverting back to his pale sweaty original self he begs and he pleads, clutching my leg, **"PLEASE DON'T TAKE MY TREASURE AWAY!!! _I'M BEGGING YOU!!!_ "**

But what Kobayakawa's Shadow doesn't know is that he isn't talking to me. I'm not even listening to him.

I'm looking down at the both of us. Watching all of this happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUUUUPER hard chapter to write, hence the long wait between 20 and this one. Not entirely proud of it but had to finish it sooner or later.
> 
> Has anybody in here read Punisher MAX? No? It's fascinating, you totally should. But only the first 60 issues. Garth Ennis is a master at portraying absolutely irredeemable pieces of human garbage in the most realistic way possible. Won't deny it's a super huge inspiration when it comes to this story lol
> 
> This doesn't mark the end of a new arc, by the way. Kobayakawa's not important enough :P
> 
> Added a lot more scenes with Makoto, in both this chapter and the previous one, cuz what I'm planning is gonna make everyone say HOO BOY.


	22. You Did All This Purely For Your Own Sake

**6 / 1 / 2016**

"May I ask a personal question?" **  
**

"Shoot."

"You said you eventually put caring for Rumi above all else. May I ask how you managed that?"

He pauses for a moment, strokes his chin a little in a thinking pose, "Well. I'd be lying if I said it was easy."

"Could you elaborate?"

"The first few months were the hardest, I'd say. I was overwhelming myself. On the one hand I wanted to find her parents' killer. So I obsessed over it. Tried to find people with the description that matched him. He had worn a mask, and Rumi...was in no shape to really recount events clearly. It was difficult, but I persevered. At the same time, Rumi herself was growing more and more detached from reality with each passing day. At first, she couldn't sleep. Then, she wouldn't eat much. Then, she wouldn't even look at me. Then, she'd barely say a word to me. Soon enough our conversations became virtual monologues on my end. I came to resent her, eventually."

" _Resent_ her?"

"I'd like to say I was wholly devoted to her recovery from the very beginning. Truth is I made many missteps along the way. I'd overwork myself to the point of forgetting meals, which would make her even more guilty. I'd try to fill the air with conversation and she'd never be able to come up with much of anything in response. I'd never spend enough time with her, even then. Always going around the clock doing whatever. Remember, we were both still in college at the time. I'd grow impatient, but I'd always keep it tucked away from her. I told myself she should never notice me breaking at the seams, because she needed me to be her _rock_. But really, I was trying to run away from everything I was feeling at the time. It all came to a head, eventually."

"What do you mean by that?"

He smiles sadly, "I ended up losing my temper at her. Just once. I was furious over something I don't even remember. After that, she wouldn't just stop speaking to me. She stopped speaking, in general. _That_ was the point where I decided to focus all my efforts on her and her recovery. The cops found the killer two months later."

"I'm sorry to dredge all these memories up."

"No, it's fine."

"How is she now? Where is she?"

"Kanazawa. She's living with her sister and her husband. She's apparently doing just fine. Even got a job working as a waitress."

"That's nice to hear."

"Why did you want to know?"

"Because...," I rub the back of my head. "I...made a promise to Kana."

"Okay."

"It's a personal promise. I don't feel comfortable talking about the promise itself. But...I've broken it, twice now. And I feel like shit for doing it. I feel like I'm half-assing things. I said I'd do all these things after she died and I've just kinda floundered around, doing exactly what I said I'd never do again."

"If you're not gonna tell me about the promise itself, that's your prerogative. But you'll have to get a firm grasp on the behaviors you indulge in before you break said promise. Recognizing how you feel beforehand, and working to resist the temptation."

"...I promised I'd never," go into Palaces again, "I _promised_ , I'd--"

"You don't have to tell me, if you feel uncomfortable."

"I hurt her. Before she died I hurt her. I did things I'll never forget. I did it in a fit of panic and anger and not knowing what the hell the future held. And I _promised_...I'd never do to others what I did to her. I broke that promise twice over, now. Every time I broke that promise, I felt like I was doing it to someone who deserved it."

"That doesn't really explain much..."

"I'm sorry. I'm sure this must be supremely confusing for you."

"One thing at a time. We're working through it together. You're opening up, at least. Though, I would like to know, as your probation officer, if you are getting into any physical altercations in school."

"Nothing of that sort."

"That's good to hear, but...in that case, how do you _hurt_ these people? And what makes you think they deserved it beforehand?"

"It's mostly a psychological thing. I cause them to break out into tears and anger."

"You insult them?"

"I pull up a mirror to show them what they are."

He narrows his eyes, "Were they really so deserving of that?"

"Absolutely. But because I felt they deserved it I was willing to break that promise twice over."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't get into conflicts in school. You need to keep your head low, now more than ever."

"I know. I'm working to correct that. I don't want to keep breaking that promise. I see her all the time."

"You see her?"

"In the corners of my room. In my classroom. For hours. Before it'd just be an instant. Maybe peppered throughout the day. Spread out. But now I see her in blocks. Constantly looking at me."

"I see...," he starts scribbling down notes. "Okay. Have you been sleeping well as of late?"

"No. For like four hours each night."

"Have you been taking any medication?"

"No."

"If anything, you probably should...how long have these hallucinations lasted?"

"Since the day she died."

He purses his lips, then. "It's very serious, then. Does she do anything other than...stand around, as you say?"

"Just stands around somewhere and looks at me. Sometimes she says things. But they're mostly just things she'd said to me before, when she was still alive."

"Can you describe her appearance for me?"

"A lot of the time, I see her skinned alive. Other times she's in a white nightgown, her wrists open and eyes hollow."

"I can put in a recommendation for some medication."

"How bad is it? Give me the full story."

"People often see auditory or visual hallucinations of a person they're in the middle of grieving. The most common form of this is mainly a _sense_ that they're there--a feeling. Hallucinations of this nature..."

Dear God. "What...?"

"Do you often feel like your thoughts are disorganized? Like, your thoughts are _hazy_ and the like?"

Oh no. "Sometimes, I forget things. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes, my head kinda...blots out certain parts of my memory. What's happening to me?"

"Calm down."

"God, what--what's _happening_ to me? Am I going to lose it? Am I going crazy?" What the fuck am I saying, of course I have, after everything I've seen I'd be crazy if I didn't go crazy--

"Listen to me," he places his hands on my shoulders. "We can get you through this."

"Do I have something like schizophrenia?"

"I can't say for sure. We'll have to talk more. You'll have to guide me through what you feel."

"I'm scared."

"Anyone would be. That's a sign you've still got a strong foothold on yourself. Listen to me, Kazuya. You're still going strong. You just need to keep going."

"Ever since I started breaking that promise I've been seeing her more and more," I huff, breaths heavy and labored and fearful, "this is my punishment, this is what I deserve, isn't it?"

"You don't deserve this, Kazuya."

"I _hurt_ her, I hurt her and because of that she died, because of that she cut her wrists open and stared up at me and allowed the blood to pool into the bathtub and I couldn't--"

"Kazuya, please. She wouldn't want to see you this way."

"Even after I hurt her...? Even after everything I did...!?"

"There's nothing you can do for her, Kazuya. You loved her. And I'm sure she loved you back. She wouldn't want you to keep blaming yourself. She wouldn't think you deserved any of this."

"I do," I begin hyperventilating again as I hunch over in agony, "I do deserve it, goddammit, you don't even know, I...I..."

He suddenly goes into the kitchen, comes back with a glass of water which I down in three gulps.

"Th-thank you."

"I'll go ahead and make dinner. Once you've had your fill, we can continue talking. You need a break."

"Can we talk day after tomorrow, instead?" I heave. "I...I feel like I need time to sort my head out."

"Sure," Maruki says, Kana standing right behind him.

"Okay."

Let me hear your voice again. Tell me anything at all. I never even had the chance to say it. Kana, you said _I love you_ before I did. That's not right at all. I should have said it so much sooner. I should have done a lot of things so much sooner.

And the sight of her makes me hate her. Makes me hate everything. It makes me want to grab all the Kamoshidas, all the Kobayakawas, all the Shidos in the world and crush them like sacks of meat in the palm of my hands. I want to see their blood fly. I want to see their minds break. I want to see them weak and weep and wet themselves and fill their pants up with everything they'd ever eaten. But I can't.

If I do, she'll watch over me for the rest of my life.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

**6 / 2 / 2016**

"Oh, good. You haven't gone home yet." Kawakami approaches me after classes are over. "Niijima-san's looking for you. Could you head to the student council room right away? She says she wants you to fill out some paperwork."

What? "I...don't understand."

"Telling me that isn't gonna get you out of this. The student council room is on the third floor, next to the library. Got it?" then she turns away and mumbles something about how it sucks that as a teacher she's doing _errands_ for a student, and leaves the room.

I don't like it. Not one bit. Niijima's not a girl to take _Fuck You_ for an answer, it seems. The shit I pulled with Kobayakawa's obviously on her mind, considering in a half-lucid state I beat his ass in front of her no less than a day before he got hit by a car.

Something rings in the back of my head. Telling me if I choose to just leave I'm fucked anyway. So might as well get it over with.

"Ah. Earlier than expected. Have a seat."

She and I sit across from each other, in this lone student council room, and she mutters, "I'll get straight to the point. Mr. Kamoshida and Principal Kobayakawa. Won't you tell me the truth behind what happened to them both?"

I'd make some kind of a snarky remark, drive her up the wall and get myself the hell out of here. But nothing's coming to mind.

"Can't answer that? Ah, of course. There's no way you'd admit to such things. Even though it's obvious. That day you barged into the principal's office, you accused him of involving his own students in drug-trafficking, well before cops could conduct any sort of formal investigation on school grounds. I _saw_ how Kobayakawa reacted after you'd confronted him. Once you'd run out the door he started screaming, holding his head, suddenly on the verge of tears. He ran out the door, tried to chase you down and he screamed horribly. In moments I saw him break down. Apologizing for _something_ , over and over again. I asked him what was wrong, he wouldn't tell me, he said he'd make sure to tell the cops, tell them he'd reveal everything. After I pleaded with him to tell me what was going on, he screamed and fled to his car, driving away from the school."

Why is my left hand shaking?

Why's the whole goddamn room pressing down on me?

Why is Kana standing behind her?

And why's she _smiling?_

"I think I misread you, then. Back in the Big Bang Burger. Your criminal background as well as your general disposition led me to make assumptions about you that couldn't have been further from the truth. You're _not_ just a delinquent with a criminal record. You're far worse."

Suddenly it comes, it comes in the form of a chill running down my back and hairs dangling over my head, "Yeah, yeah, I'm the Devil, or whatever bullshit Sakamoto told you. Now, is there a point to any of this, or can I leave? I've got flowers to tend to--"

She opens her phone, gives a smile as she presses the screen.

_"Why didn't you tell us anything...? We could've helped you."_

_"I didn't want you to. I dragged you into so much shit already. But hell. I guess it's also because I didn't want any of you to stop me."_

Stupid.

Fucking stupid asshole. She was right fucking there and you were so stuck on yourself you couldn't even see her. How could you let fucking _Niijima_ sneak up on you?

_"You asshole. You couldn't try to leave him alive!? You just—you just had to make him—"_

_"I didn't have to do anything at all. I just did it. I wanted to do it."_

_"Why!? Goddammit, why!?"_

_"Why not? Honestly. Why not? Because it's_ wrong _?"_

Makoto Niijima keeps an impassive look and it's obvious she's relishing this. My left hand won't stop shaking as the recording keeps going on and I listen to myself like a dumbass, but I keep my eyes on her all the while and keep the urge to smash that phone at bay for just a little while longer. Don't fucking lose it. Destroying her phone won't fucking do anything, she's already saved the file on her goddamn laptop because why the fuck wouldn't she? She'd have to be as stupid as me, I, the guy who talked his ass off about this bullshit in the middle of the goddamn day because I'm so goddamn sad all the time _—_

_"So it's okay if you do worse to them than they ever did to anyone else, is that your logic? You think you can just do whatever you want, so long as you drag people like them down along with you?"_

_"They had it coming for all their lives."_

_"What happens when someone decides you have it coming, too?"_

_"Then they'd better not chicken out halfway through."_

Her eyes are firm as the recording ends in a ruffling noise. "What could all this mean? Was it blackmail? Hypnosis? How could you coerce people into confessing? Into driving them to suicide? Won't you tell me how you did it?"

I exhale, trying to conceal my gut reactions to the visions filling my head at this very moment, "I'd tell you to ask Kamoshida and Kobayakawa about it. After all, doubtless you'll meet them again in Hell."

"You're trying to say this proves nothing, aren't you?" She scoffs, eyes narrowing, "I'll speak plainly, then. I believe you are responsible for the incidents surrounding Suguru Kamoshida and Sohei Kobayakawa. Now what would the police think, if they heard this recording?" I couldn't give a shit about going back to jail. But she knows exactly what she's done. "You'd undoubtedly be thrown back in prison. That much is obvious. But you're not the only person implicated, are you?"

Fucking deranged and stupid, that's all you are. "You leave them out of this."

"You dragged them into this in the first place."

"They don't have shit to do with my mistakes. You can't just threaten to drive them out of this school for what _I_ did."

Her voice turns sterner, she rises from her seat and glares, "It's made perfectly clear, within this very recording, that Ryuji Sakamoto, Ann Takamaki, and Kasumi Yoshizawa were involved in some fashion with Suguru Kamoshida's suicide attempt. For as much as Yoshizawa and Sakamoto may regret collaborating with you, in the end they're just as responsible for Kamoshida as you are."

"No they are _not_. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Even if you're the _only_ one expelled and sent to prison, it's not like the rest of them will be unscathed."

What the hell am I saying?

Who gives a fuck about Sakamoto, Yoshizawa, and Takamaki!?

I can leave this place. I can just get my goddamn bag and leave her here, let the po po swipe in and take me away in handcuffs. Juvie isn't even all that different from school anyway. It'll be another year, maybe ten or more, but I can endure. Whatever this bitch thinks I am, I'm not so stupid that I'd let myself become her fucking dog for the sake of three people who I don't even know, who don't know me, and who don't even _like_ me.

So why. Aren't my goddamn legs. Moving my body out the door.

"You said you haven't had a future in two years. You may not care about what happens to _you_. But you don't strike me as someone who'd abandon your friends."

"They aren't my friends."

Her eyes have grown emboldened, with a ferocity beyond anything I could have ever imagined coming out of someone like her. "Then why _don't_ you just leave?"

"What the fuck do you want from me? You could've given that recording to Sawamura or the cops. Hell, your sister's a prosecutor. You could've given it to them at any time. Instead you approached me with it first, and are blackmailing me with it. So you obviously want _something_."

"First things first. I'm certain you're responsible for Kamoshida's leap off the roof. But I'm not quite sure you're responsible for Kobayakawa's death. Too many mitigating factors."

"Like what?"

"For one thing, if he intended to kill himself in the first place, why did he make the effort to approach a police station? Did he really need to go all the way there to throw himself into traffic? He lives near a highway. Now we can chalk it up to general mental instability, but from what I could tell of him, he expressed a desire to _confess_ before anything else."

"What're you getting at?"

"I don't think he planned to kill himself at all. And considering his ties to yakuza, him suffering a hit-and-run just as he's about to make a confession is rather... convenient. Tell me, did you intend to have him thrown into traffic? Or did you intend to simply make him own up to his crimes?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

She smirks, "I thought you were smart enough to come up with better excuses."

I smile a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Sometimes I remember things. Sometimes I don't."

"Did you want him to die?"

I shake my head. "I didn't really care _what_ happened to him."

"Did you want Kamoshida to die?"

"I didn't care what happened to him, either."

"And you don't regret any of it?"

"I'd do it again and again."

"You're willing to take that on your conscience?"

"You want remorse, talk to Sakamoto."

"How could you?" she scowls at me.

"The others wanted him to confess his crimes. Takamaki in particular wanted to make him live. Thought it'd have been too easy for him to just die. But honestly, I didn't care if he felt so much remorse he turned himself in, or if he blew his brains out, or if he hid away from the rest of the world in shame. The school is better off without Kamoshida. Hell, the whole damn _world_ 's better off without him. "

"Everything that you've said is true. But he deserved a fair trial."

"According to fucking who."

"The law!"

"The _law_ , who gives a shit."

"Excuse me!?"

"You and I both know if nothing happened to Kamoshida he'd be raping more girls right under your nose, until he'd retire or get bored. You and Kobayakawa and the rest of the fucks on the sports teams woulda kept their heads down until graduation. The _law_ wasn't there to stop him because he _was_ the law. Anyone who crossed him got discarded like yesterday's garbage."

"So that excuses what _you_ did!?"

"I'm not making excuses. I'm telling you the truth. But if you're so fucking stupid that even that's cryptic to you, then I'll get more literal. Kamoshida was a degenerate fuck who needed to have sex with kids in order to boost his goddamn ego. Cry about what I did as much as you'd like, but like it or not I got rid of him. And because I got rid of him, the students you care so goddamn much about can _finally_ be free to bitch about all the shit he put them through. And you can sit right here, complaining about how I did a helluva lot more to stop him than you ever did."

She purses her lips, and her voice creaks.

It looks like it takes all her strength to say it, but she does: "You're right," and she leans back in her seat, folding her arms. "The truth about Kamoshida must've been covered up by the whole school. I had my suspicions, but...I felt couldn't do anything about it. That's what I'd tell myself. But the reality was I _didn't_ do anything. The truth is, had I cared enough, I _could_ have done something."

"And this is your idea of atonement. I know you like to kiss the teachers' asses, but..."

"What are you talking about!?" she cries, infuriated.

I smirk and make my voice high-pitched, "Principal Sawamura, I found the guy who drove Kamoshida to jump, now please gimme a letter of recommendation."

"I'm not doing this for a letter of recommendation, _I'm not doing this for the teachers or their approval!"_

"Coulda fooled me. You let that fucking wide load treat you like a dog on a leash. You chose to ignore Kamoshida. Whole school knows you're bending over backwards for some fucking reason—"

" _I'VE BEEN DOING THIS FOR MY SISTER!!!_ "

Of course, the sister. "What does your _sister_ have to do with your negligence?"

She speaks like she _hates_ admitting it. But it's less the act of admitting itself, and more the fact she's admitting it to _me_. "My older sister has a commendable job, and she's a much more remarkable person than I'll ever be. A lot happened after we lost our father three years ago. It's just been the two of us, since then... but since I'm still a child, I'm nothing but a burden to her."

I narrow my eyes, "That's why you were willing to do whatever the teachers asked of you?"

"I wanted to show that I could be _useful!"_ she shouts, her voice wavering and her eyes blistering. "To my sister, to the students, to the teachers, to _myself_ , I wanted to increase my standing so I'd be able to lighten the load off my sister's back! _I didn't think it'd come to any of this!_ And now innocent people are _—_ are _stuck_ in this mess, all because I let _monsters_ like Kobayakawa and Kamoshida run around doing whatever the hell they wanted."

My left hand begins trembling as I see Kana hovering behind her, cupping her hands along her face, her hairs crawling over her shoulders. She can't contain the sheer spite in her eyes.

"I want to be perfectly frank with you. What you did to Kamoshida disgusts me. As far as I'm concerned you're a danger to everyone around you. A vindictive borderline-psychotic, willing to engage in the exact same behaviors you condemn the second someone crosses you. But in the end...you can't stand by whenever you witness people trying to use their power and authority to harm others. You won't just turn away and hope it isn't true, like I did. And you're not afraid to do dirty work if it's required of you. That's why...I need your help."

"My _help_?"

"Whatever your methods are, I'd like to clarify something. Judging from Kobayakawa, it seems possible for you to simply make your victims feel so much remorse for their actions that they turn themselves in. So to speak, you can give them a change of heart. Is that correct?"

I lean my head back. "That depends. Why do you ask?"

"So you're saying it's not impossible. What do you mean by it _depends_?"

"It's a process you won't understand, even if I tell you."

She folds her arms, leaning back in her seat, "Try me."

I hiss as I see a girl, skinned alive, wearing purple robes and holding the bones of her dead child, "If you're extremely, emotionally depressed and unstable, that complicates things."

"I see. Would you be able to change the heart of a yakuza boss?"

Holy shit. "You're targeting the yakuza?"

"Yes, I am. But you didn't answer my question. Would you be able to change their heart or not?"

"Why do you even—?"

"It was as you said. Kobayakawa had been using his own students to distribute narcotics for him. He'd been at that for a very long time. But even though he's been put behind bars, his employers have only grown bolder. Without Kobayakawa's input, they've begun targeting students from various schools, including our own, for the past two weeks. This group seems to be the cause of the rise in phishing scams. Once you're in their sights, they won't stop threatening you until they get what they want. They'll force you to take part in their scams, threaten your family, and ultimately destroy your life."

"How'd _you_ become aware of this?"

"I was approached by a student whose identity won't be disclosed here. She'd been forced into this by Kobayakawa, and after his death she was threatened again. Sent a letter telling her that if she snitched, she and her family would be sent into Tokyo Bay, wrapped in bodybags and tied to cinderblocks."

"And in her desperation she approached _you_ , not Sawamura or any of the other teachers?"

"She's an...acquaintance, let's just say. She's had terrible experiences with Kamoshida. Doesn't trust the teachers."

"This isn't like Kamoshida or Kobayakawa, you realize that."

"Of course I do. If this could simply be resolved by calling the police, I'd have done it already. But the victims are being threatened not to testify, so police can't get a grasp on the situation. If I or the teachers were to report anything, it would jeopardize their lives."

"You say, as you coerce me into jeopardizing _my_ life."

"I _know_ that you want nothing to do with me. I _know_ that I'm doing things I'd _never_ do otherwise, but I'm desperate. There's no one else I can approach to ask for help, because the second I bring this up to any authorities, the yakuza will do unthinkable things to the victims and their families. You're the only one who can help me put a stop to this."

I growl at her, "If you want _justice_ or whatever, you should've asked the other three to do this shit for you."

"Really? Honestly, Hikawa. For all your bluster about how you _don't believe in right or wrong_ , everything you've done up to this point clearly shows that you don't even believe _that_."

"The fuck are you talking about?"

"You're putting on airs. Trying to drive people away from you."

Oh my God, "I already have a therapist, so stop with the armchair psychoanalysis. Don't talk like you _know me_ , you—"

"You're right, I don't know you. But I do know that whenever you've found someone who abuses their position of power to advance their standing, you're willing to go so far to put them down that you'd drive teachers to suicide, smash up your own hand, and risk yourself getting sent straight back to juvie in order to put a stop to them. Now you can _tell_ methat you did all this purely for your own sake, but I don't think that's true at all."

"Do you realize how you _sound_ right now?"

"You seem to enjoy putting down criminals who oppress and victimize innocent people, and you're willing to ensure their lives are ruined by any means necessary. But if you didn't care about their victims, like you _act_ like you do, you would never have tried to save Shiho Suzui in the first place."

"I did that because—" the answer forms a lump in my throat and I stammer and tremble, my hands balling into fists. Gritting my teeth I choke out, "—because I couldn't..."

"Because you couldn't, what?"

Because I couldn't just let what happened to Kana happen to someone else. Because I couldn't bear to see someone who'd done nothing wrong try to kill themselves, not while I was standing right there. Even though Kana died specifically because I chose to do something. Even though things might've been better off if I could've just done jackshit. Even though I'm a stupid worthless arrogant bastard piece of shit, who deserves to be drawn and quartered and burnt to ashes and forgotten.

I tried to save Shiho Suzui, even though I _know_ I can't save anyone. "Because I couldn't just stand around and do nothing."

_You know, sometimes I think Masako deserves a better mom than me._

Suddenly they all rush at me. Memories of a seven-headed monstrosity with my face shambling all across the world, of a lustful demon with pus pooling out his pubic area, an obese purple demon begging me to _stop_ , a girl in a bathtub dead and gone and hollowed out because of me.

"I, I don't," I'm hyperventilating as my left hand fucking shakes and _I see her_ , but it's beyond anything I can stomach or accept _—_ "You've _no idea_ what you're asking of me."

 _—_ she's standing over Niijima, her eyes having fallen out her head, she's been skinned alive but the muscles and the nerves are attacked on all fronts by necrosis, blood's pouring out her mouth as her teeth fall one by one by one, and as the teeth fall layers of skin lop off and slither down to the ground and she's screaming with rotting vocal cords and crying without eyeballs, I know I'm breaking my promise but for fuck's sake I'm not the victim here, the yakuza's got their grubby hands all over these stupid fucking kids, what the hell am I supposed to do? What do you want?

_I just want the whole world to forget I ever existed._

I can't just forget you.

I _can't_ go into another Palace, I'll see her everywhere, all the time, if I do. I hear her, see her, know she's watching me every goddamn day, the more I see her the more I wanna kill myself but I don't deserve to kill myself I deserve to live with the shitty things I did all the time forever and ever and ever _goddammit please stop—_

_ Know that I'll always be watching over you, and despite everything that's happened, the days I was with you were  _ **some of the happiest _—_**

"I can't. I...you don't know. You don't understand, I," I want to kill those yakuza fucks more than anything else on this earth, but, "I can't just ** _—_** "

"Their main hub of activity is in Shibuya," she says, eyes stern as she gets up off her seat. "You have two weeks. Once that has passed, I'll submit everything I have to the police and the school."

Two weeks? "Goddamn you, what the fuck do you want from me!? _Why're you giving me a time limit_!?"

"Whoever's running this operation needs to be stopped as soon as possible. You have to make them feel remorseful enough to confess, but only just. If you force them to kill themselves, I'll release everything."

She's whispering, hissing, clawing at my eardrums and gnawing at my brain, slinking her fingers in every crack in every crevice in every pore of my flesh, making me bleed as Masako laughs a baby's laugh despite being nothing but bones, "You don't understand what it means, it's not always in my control _whether or not they live_!"

"Then _put it_ under your control. Do whatever you have to ** _—_** "

I slam my hand down and get outta my seat, " _YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE ASKING ME TO DO!!!_ "

"What _am_ I asking you to do? Something you haven't done before?" Her expression is made of steel. "Did you really think you could just get away with everything?"

"No. No, I never did." I haven't gotten away from _anything_ in the past two years.

"You began this mess. The only person you have to blame for all this is yourself."

I know. _You_ don't even know how much I know that to be true.

I can never be free of what I've done. I'm a fucking idiot to think I could even try. I wanted it. I craved for it. I hoped to God I could move forward at least somehow someway. I knew it was never gonna happen. I knew I was gonna be stuck in this fucking shit for all my life. It's the only thing I've ever deserved.

What right do I have to talk about freedom when I'm trapped by my own stupidity.

_I'll kill you one of these days. Being with me will kill you._

I slump back into my seat. "Who's their boss? What's his name?"

"Nobody knows. He keeps his identity secret enough such that his cronies don't even mention him by name. They call him _Sakahagi_ , apparently."

"Sakahagi. I need a name to make this work. Otherwise I can't do anything."

"Really?" she queries. "Alright, then. I'll work alongside you to get his name."

I purse my lips. "Two and a half weeks."

"No, two weeks."

"Two _and a half_. I also need supplies."

"What kind of supplies?"

"The _right_ kind. You don't need to worry about it."

She and I lock eyes for a moment.

"Alright, then," she smiles, turning to the door and gesturing out. "Tomorrow we'll start our investigation. I hope you don't let me down."

I'd long ago made up my mind about Makoto Niijima. She was a puppet who had internalized her own learned helplessness, to the point where she would allow others to take hold of her strings and drag her across her own life.

But I was wrong. She's something far more dangerous.

* * *

I hear Masako wailing. I hear Kana screaming. I hear her mother howling in madness. I hear myself, laughing, as I smash a man's face into the pavement so hard his brains come out the back of his head.

I hear it all, for the rest of the day, even when I fall back in bed and hope to God I don't wake up the next morning.

But just before I sleep I write two names in the Vortex World Navigator.

First name, nothing happens. But the second.

_Sae Niijima_

**Candidate Found**

I let myself smile just this once.

Then I bury myself in my pillow and turn to stone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm of the belief that Makoto could have definitely done something, but not much in regard to Kamoshida. Especially considering her sister's a prosecutor. That said, Makoto really didn't have much evidence to support her suspicions, and she really couldn't just act too much on a suspicion in the first place.
> 
> Kazuya's an asshole, and Makoto has low self-esteem, so it's made to look pretty unfair of him to put her down a lot. Only fair she gets to wreck his shit too, lol


	23. Mama Mia, Mama Mia, Mama Mia Let Me Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> _Easy come, easy go, will you let me go_  
>  _Bismillah! No, we will not let you go_  
>  _(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go!_  
>  _(Let him go!) Bismillah! We will not let you go!_  
>  _(Let me go) Will not let you go_  
>  _(Let me go) Never, ever let you go_  
>  _(Let me go) Never, never, never let you go_  
>  _No, no, no, no, no, no, no_  
>  _Oh mama mia, mama mia,_  
>  Mama mia, let me go!  
>  _Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me,_  
> 
> 
>   
>  _For me_   
> 
> 
>   
> _-_ Queen, _Bohemian Rhapsody_

**6 / 3 / 2016**

When I get to school that morning, I see a guy at the front gates. Long hair. A hat in his hand. Wears a beige suit with some strange pattern across the top layer. He's mumbling something about how he won't be able to get a good picture in, when he sees me.

"Hey, kid. You're a student here, right?"

Guy has a surprisingly youthful face, if a little tired.

"Who wants to know?"

"Just your average journalist. The incidents surrounding Shujin Academy have caused quite a buzz online. Wanted to see it for myself." Suddenly he pulls himself closer to me, speaking in hushed whispers, "You got any info on hand? I'll pay you. Anyone who can get the scoop on the whole Kobayakawa debacle'll--""

"I don't know anything about it, sorry."

He smirks, "You sure? You look like you've been around the block."

"Not enough, I guess."

"Well. In case anything comes to mind," he pulls out a white rectangle from his shirt pocket, "contact me at this number. School won't lemme enter the premises, so I'm counting on student testimonies to help me out."

I narrow my eyes at him, taking the rectangle, "I'll let you know if I've found anything."

"Right then," his phone buzzes, and he checks the time. "Dammit. Didn't think I'd have spent _that_ much time around here... Alright. I'll see you whenever I see you."

As he rushes away from the school, heading to the open road, I check the name on his card.

_Jyoji Hijiri_ | _+81-805-5530-552_

* * *

I find out my scores on the bulletin board, at lunchtime.

Average of 80. In the top thirty. Would've liked at least 90, but take what you can get. Shoulda studied more.

Back to business.

When the hell did I become such a goddamn softie, that I'd be kowtowing to some fucking bitch, for the sake of three people I met like a month ago. 

Fine. Fucking whatever. I'mma change this yakuza prick's heart so good he'll snip his balls off with kindergarten scissors the second he even _thinks_ of distributing drugs again. And then I'm gonna go march into Sae Niijima's Palace and fucking learn every single embarrassing secret the stuco prez has got, and blackmail her to hell and back with them if she ever threatens to send out that shitting recording ever again.

But first things first. Get that Sakahagi motherfucker, make him squeal, throw him in a padded cell for the rest of his life. After that I take care o' Niijima and I never enter another Palace again and Kana stops hanging over my shoulder like she's doing right now. Then maybe one day I'll be able to sleep for more than four hours, and get over whatever mental illness I've developed, and live until I die.

Now why the hell is Makoto Niijima so late in arriving to the student council room?

"Whatcha d _oooo_ in?"

"What the hell!?"

Of all the things to pop into the windowsill, it's the Cat. "Took a mornin' stroll and spotted a TV in the window of some shop somewhere saying the principal of Shujin Academy threw himself into traffic. And rather than welcome me back after I've come all this way, you give me that look? I'm hurt."

"How did you even know I'd be here...?"

"I can sense people who've awakened to their Personas."

"Goddammit, leave me alone. I don't wanna deal with you right now."

"But _I_ wanna look at the Treasure you took from 'im!" Cat smiles, leaping down from the window.

"I don't know what happened to the Treasure. Prolly threw it in the trash once I got it. Now get out before I throw you out."

"Seemed like only yesterday you didn't know shit from Shinola. Now you're bustin' into Palaces left and right, making the world a better place one asshole at a time."

"Listen, you fucking cat. I regret the day I ever met you. If I hadn't left my knife back in Kamoshida's Palace I'd gut you like a fish and throw your corpse out in the courtyard to get swept up by the janitor."

Its expression shifts as it lowers its head. "Okay. I get you're still reeling from what happened with that girl."

"I see her _every day_. I hear her talking to me, like she's still here."

Cat's eyes grow wide. "That's not...okay. How often have you been seeing her?"

"I'd see her every now and again, before any of this shit. But after Kamoshida, after Kobayakawa, I see her all the time, everywhere. Hell, I see her right now, standing behind you. Looking at me even though she's got no fucking eyes-- _what's happening to me_!?"

Cat turns around and sees nothing and turns back to face me, "It's more an effect of the Vortex World on you, than anything else. Everything you've experienced concerning that Palace is rearing up at you, exacerbating whatever trauma you've developed."

"How do I get rid of it!?"

"As you are now, I doubt you can."

"Why not?"

"The only way to do that would be to completely wipe out your memory of the encounter."

What? "That can't be the only way...is it...?"

"It's the only way I can think of."

"Goddammit, what else can I, is there, isn't there literally _anything_ I can do...? I can't just _forget_ her, I, I don't _deserve it,_ I--"

"Calm down."

" _HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO BE CALM_!?"

Suddenly the door opens.

I whirl my head around and I see Niijima, entering through. "I'm sorry for being late. Why were you shouting?"

I don't have an answer. I turn back to the cat, but it's already gone back out the window, a rustling noise ringing in the leaves of the tree right outside.

When I realize my left hand is trembling again I shuffle it under the table. For just a second, Niijima looks all concerned, but I stamp it away before she can let her pity manifest, "Took you long enough--"

And then I see the three people standing behind her.

Sakamoto looks about as dejected as ever, scowling at me even as he enters the room. Yoshizawa keeps on a stronger poker face, but she clearly wants out. Takamaki's more worried than anything else, worried and tired and more than a little pissed at the brown-haired girl in front of them. Niijima herself keeps her face impassive.

"What the hell!?" I cry out, rising from my seat, "What'd you bring _them_ here for!?"

"You didn't think I'd trust you with changing his heart on your own, did you?"

Before I can say anything further in protest, Sakamoto gets the chutzpah to step between the president and myself, fists shaking from the tension of being kept clenched. "She told us you're fightin' against the yakuza. That she's blackmailed you with a recording where all of us said shit about Kamoshida and Kobayakawa. And you thought you could just get away with not telling us?"

"Yes, I did." 

"God. Why not?"

Because I didn't want to involve you into this shit anymore. "Because it'd have been a _fucking hassle_."

Sakamoto can't contain himself then, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and raising a fist--

A fist that Niijima placates with a stern look and a hand on his shoulder.

"Sakamoto-kun."

He eyes her like she's gone mad, and without a second to spare grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her away, such that she very nearly trips on her ass if not for Takamaki and Yoshizawa standing behind her.

Niijima looks like she's about to scold him, but he whirls back around to me and doesn't even pay her a passing glance, "Look here, you sick bastard, I ain't about to let you fuck up _anyone_ else like you did to Kamoshida. Now she told us she's strong-armed you into makin' sure this guy lives, but she hasn't _seen_ you, hasn't seen what you're like out there, how easy it is for you to lose it. Thank God she was paranoid enough to talk to us all before meetin' up with you, because then this asshole woulda died and that shit woulda been on her hands as much as yours."

"The whole reason I chose to take on this job in the first place was to make sure none of you would get dragged into the dirt along with me--" I glare at Niijima now, "--and all the things you could've done, you fucking dragged them into this anyway?"

"This is _yakuza_ , you can't do this on your own," she grunts out.

"You don't even know what it all means to--"

Sakamoto pushes my chest, sends me into the wall, "Back the hell away from her. Makes me sick just to look at you."

"Ohh, cry me a river about Kamoshida already, dumbass."

"Say that again, you _fuck_ \--"

"Keep _boo-hoo-hooing_ for the rapist that broke your leg, and maybe someday you _won't_ sound like you've got Stockholm syndrome."

"Would you both stop it already!?" Takamaki cries, actually working her way between us both and stretching her arms out. "For the love of God, we're trying to take down an actual career criminal and you two are still bitching at each other like you're still in elementary. Grow up!"

I groan, "Why would you all come back to this...?"

"Same reason you did, senpai," Yoshizawa steps forward. "We can't just turn away when we know we can do something. And she's blackmailed us into it anyway, so we might as well."

"God, what the hell's the point of even keeping him alive!? Guy's a mob boss, but he's part of a whole fucking network, you think if we just have him _thrown in jail_ , the trade'll stop!? For all we know, this asshole's gonna get whacked in his cell and it'll be framed as a suicide."

"He needs to confess. If anything, doing so will likely get him a deal with investigators, probably end up leading to other dealers in the area as well as his other associates. The right people can arrange things such that he won't be murdered while in custody. And besides that... I won't stand for you killing him. For as horrible a criminal as he is, he still needs to be brought in by the book. Just as Kamoshida needed to be, just as Kobayakawa needed to be."

By the book, even though you want us to rape his mind. "Ya ever thought about working in a church? Cuz if nothing else, you do a good job of preaching bullshit that nobody cares about."

" _I_ care about it," grunts Sakamoto.

"So do I," Yoshizawa follows suit.

Takamaki sighs, "Maybe actually keeping him alive will get more dealers off the streets, I dunno. And to be honest, Hikawa, you don't exactly have a habit of going about these kinda things _cleanly_. For as much as I don't like Niijima, I see her logic."

Niijima lets a smile emerge, though it's offset by her scowling eyes, "And there you have it, Hikawa-san--"

"Shut up," Takamaki steps towards her. "I _know_ someone put you up to pin us down. School can't have ties to criminals, after all. Everyone was all up in arms when Kamoshida jumped off the roof, but Shiho had done exactly the same thing a week prior and none of you did a single goddamn thing. And here you are, being all _smug_ and shit, even though you're nothing but a tool for the teachers to use all over again. I feel sorry for you."

Niijima doesn't say a word for a moment. But the cracks shine through well enough. "I...I know."

"What?"

"I didn't do anything. Not when I could have. Not when I should have. I can't even do anything _now_. I let myself be used by people who had no right being in the positions they were in to further their own ambitions. I'm sick of letting myself be a slave to their expectations and demands."

"So you admit you're doing this all for yourself?" I smirk at her.

" _Yes_ ," she seethes, pushing past Takamaki to face me directly. "I'd never forgive myself if I turned away from this, after everything I let happen. I'm _doing_ this because it's the only way to keep the students safe. All of you might hate me, and you'd be right to do so, but _please_. I can't find any other way to stop these people other than enlisting your help."

Nobody says a word in protest.

I fall back into my seat. "Let's just get this shit over with."

Niijima looks like an exceptionally bitter taste had formed in her mouth. "Everyone please take your seats."

* * *

It's an impossibly awkward meeting, because nobody likes being there, nor do they like the person they're sitting next to or across from, and it's being led by this condescending Dragon Lady with a massive chip on her shoulder and an irritatingly smug smirk that she never fucking stops showing, like she's _satisfied_ she's got us all wrapped round her fingers.

And boy, that was a long sentence.

"My informant was coaxed into a relationship with a man named Tsukasa," begins Niijima. "Supposedly, he ended up in trouble after accidentally dropping a bottle of expensive sake. She ended up working extra hours at her part-time job to help pay off the alleged debt, but...it dawned on her too late that the story was bogus, and that he intends to have her sold off in the sex trade to help fill his pockets."

"That's awful...," Takamaki growls.

"They're all based in Shibuya, right?" Sakamoto reiterates.

"Correct."

"Seems our best chance is to meet up with these people ourselves and tail them," grunts Yoshizawa. "Maybe they'll lead us back to their boss. Is there anywhere besides Central Street we can expect them?"

"They hang around places where they're most likely to get in contact with students fresh out of school. So they can be anywhere from Central Street to the underground mall to the walkway. That said, they seem to frequent Central Street the most. Less crowds, less security, more potential targets. Risky business. But they're pretty good at their job. They'd have to be, if they've been able to come this far without getting cops on their tail."

"Or, like you said, someone on the force got sold out," I cut in.

She winces a little at that, "Yes, that's also a possibility."

"So...what's the plan? We all of us go into Shibuya and try to get in their good graces?" asks Takamaki.

"Ideally, yes," says Niijima. "Though we'll have to be very careful in how we go about this. What do you need in order to change his heart?"

"It's...a little complicated," she sighs.

"A name. A place. And what he _thinks_ of that place."

"It's that simple?"

"Wouldn't say _simple_ , because there's a whole host of shit we'll have to do once we've narrowed all that down. We can assume Shibuya at the very least is a place of interest for the man. Though, depending on whether or not he's a megalomaniac it might extend past that part of the city."

"May I ask...how exactly is any of this even possible, on your end?"

We all pass glances at each other, before turning to her and saying in unison, _"Don't ask."_

"Wh-why not?"

"Listen, Niijima," begins Sakamoto, "Leave that to us. Rather outsiders not get involved in the whole changing-hearts bullshit."

"So there's nothing I can do to help on that front?"

Well, there is something. But _fuck_ sake, I wouldn't wish that even on her. "Be grateful you can't."

She's downcast, because of course she is. This is the one time where she's actively trying to be useful for the right reasons, and she can't even do _that_ much. "Very well, then."

"When should we head out?" Takamaki asks.

I tell her, "Tomorrow."

"That soon?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday. Kids're gonna be running around all over Shibuya, looking for shit to do before heading home. Yakuza're definitely gonna try luring them into doing something they can't take back."

"Makes sense."

I turn to Sakamoto, "Where did you get the shotgun?"

"Sh-shotgun!?" cries Niijima.

He scowls, explaining, "Got it from an airsoft shop in Shibuya. Will show you there. Guy sells way more than that. Pistols, revolvers, miniguns, bazookas..."

"There're airsoft bazookas?" asks Takamaki.

"I guess? Apparently they're collectors' items."

"Wait, you four are planning to use _airsoft guns_ to deal with yakuza--?"

"How expensive?"

"Pistols to shotguns to rifles are the most affordable, and by affordable I mean you'll only lose _most of_ your wallet by buying one. Everything beyond that, fat chance."

"You're rich, though, right?" Takamaki asks. "Your dad's the head of a big company--?"

"I've been disinherited."

"You've been _disinherited_...?" asks Niijima.

"Why do you think I have to work in a flower shop after school?"

"You work in a flower shop?" Yoshizawa raises her brow.

"Rafflesia. Underground mall. Please buy something. Hanasaki-san said she'd raise my salary if I was able to sell more bouquets to more people--"

"Why were you disinherited?" asks Niijima.

"Argument with Dad, before the year started," I turn to Sakamoto. "How much does a pistol cost?"

"Last I checked, some thousand-odd yen."

"A thousand, really?"

"Guy put work into his guns."

I pull open my wallet. "Dammit. I'll have to work in the flower shop for like five days."

"Do what you gotta do."

"We can buy our own weapons," Takamaki says. "That alright with you, Yoshizawa?"

"Yes, I've got enough saved up, I think."

Niijima shakes her head, "What are you planning to use airsoft guns for...?"

I turn to the other three, "We're all good for tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Yes."

"I guess..."

"Niijima."

She stammers, "Y-yes?"

"You're free?"

Her eyes turn determined. "Yes."

"Alright, then. Where should we meet up?"

"The walkway overlooking the rest of Shibuya," Niijima says. "Seems like a good place to start."

"Alright. I'll head on down to Central Street."

Sakamoto says, "I'll stay in the subway."

"Subway's a big place. I'll go with you, senpai," says Yoshizawa.

Takamaki says she's "Gonna check out the underground mall."

And Niijima finishes off with, "Alright then, I'll help Hikawa-san out on Central Street."

God fucking dammit, whatever, let it be.

"We're all good?" They all nod, though Niijima does nothing of the sort, just keeps her stink eye fixated on me. "Alright, then. See you tomorrow--"

"I can actually show you the shop today," says Sakamoto, getting up out his seat. "It's called _Untouchable_. Get yourself a look at the prices on the guns."

"I'll come with!" Takamaki says.

Yoshizawa is the last to get off her seat, "Me, too. I'll check what I can buy."

Niijima cries out, "You all realize airsoft guns aren't going to work as actual weapons...!?"

"A weapon is a weapon only if you believe it is," I smirk cryptically, as Sakamoto throws open the door.

"Niijima-senpai," says Yoshizawa, "I know none of this makes sense to you right now, but trust us when we say that this is absolutely necessary to our survival over the course of the next two weeks. So let us do our work. This'll all be over before you know it."

Makoto Niijima doesn't at all understand _why_ this is so necessary, but before she can protest further, Yoshizawa and all the rest of us leave her sitting alone in the student council room.

Cat watches all this happen, from the tree.

* * *

Before we get to where we need to go I make a pit stop at an ATM.

"Here."

Gun shop is deep in an alleyway, so much so that you'd be hard-pressed to know from glancing at the road that a gun shop of _any_ kind would be nearby.

The gaze of the man at the counter is enough to give us pause.  It's not necessarily harsh, but far too uninviting. Sizing us up, he gets out of his seat and we see just how tall he really is. There's a white stick popping out of his mouth. He's wearing a trenchcoat and he's got a greyish military hat over his head. When he leans over the counter, we see the glint in his eyes and the five-o'clock shadow, and cranes his neck just enough so we see the gecko tattoo he's got on his person as well.

Takamaki eyes him warily. Sakamoto tries to look unimpressed, though he tugs at his collar. Yoshizawa and I are unmoved.

"What're you looking for?" he grumbles at us all, but focuses himself on me.

"We're looking to buy some model guns," Yoshizawa responds, trying her best to lighten up the guy's features.

He raises his brow. "You don't look like gun enthusiasts."

"W-we are!" exclaims Sakamoto. "It's just, well, we're, uh...newbies to it all, and we'd just...like to see what you've got in stock? Any recommendations?"

He blinks and shrugs, "Just pick whatever looks interestin' to you."

Sakamoto blinks, Takamaki muttering under her breath, "Some customer service..."

"Fine. Automatic? Revolver? What is it you want?" he asks.

Takamaki and Sakamoto's expressions twist because neither of them did any research on guns before coming here. Yoshizawa, on the other hand, responds: "Pistol, for me."

Takamaki grunts, and says "Automatic uzi," like it's the first thing that comes to mind.

I turn to them both, eyes wide, "Are you both _sure_?"

Takamaki shrugs, "Can't be _that_ hard—"

But the man at the counter just turns to me and asks, "'Bout you?"

"Pistol."

He nods. "Know these things don't come cheap."

I nod, "Okay."

"This is an enthusiast shop, mind you," he grunts. "Reputation'll take a hit if my regulars see me letting casuals hang around the place. Just pick and go."

"Yes, sir," I tell him.

Sakamoto and Takamaki look visibly uncomfortable as Yoshizawa turns to face me. I nod.

I get my wallet out and I pull out a couple thousands. Bills had enough zeroes to intrigue him. The second I place them on the table, he grabs them and flits through, checking if they're fake. Seeing that they aren't, he raises his brow at me as the three at my back stare in shock.

"Only the very best," I tell him.

Yoshizawa shakes her head, "This is what you made the pit stop for...?"

"Dad may've disinherited me, but he hasn't cut me off from my bank account just yet.  You gonna settle for something third-rate if we ever encounter another Kamoshida?"

She blinks at me, furrows her brows; she's almost about to protest a little more, but nods and lets me go. I turn over to Sakamoto and Takamaki, and neither of them say a word. But they keep their eyes on me.

The man just stares and smiles, getting up off his seat, "Follow me."

Man brings us to the back end of the store, a large matted sheet draped over the ten-meter wide wall. Pulling open the sheet he reveals pistols, revolvers, bazookas, grenade launchers, assault rifles, shotguns, sawed-offs, and a whole host of other guns the names of which elude me. Difference between these and the ones outside is, if you look close enough, the ones outside still look like they're made of plastic.

"Collector's items. Super high quality. Manufactured in the West."

Sakamoto mutters out, "H-how much for just one?"

"Ten thousand yen for the cheapest we've got."

" _What_!?"

"Take it or leave it."

"I'll take one," I tell him. "The... _cachef_?"

"Tkachev. This here's a limited edition," he brings out a gleaming silver pistol. Thick barrel, heavy in my hands.

Everyone else pulls out their own wallets.

Takamaki says, "I think I'll settle for something more...affordable."

Guy shrugs, "To each their own."

* * *

Sakamoto doesn't buy another shotgun. Takamaki and Yoshizawa get _their_ weapons, but like me they end the day with barely enough to make it through the train stops. 

Sakamoto confronts me outside the shop, once everyone's bought their shit. "We can't kill him. You realize that?"

"Of course I realize that."

"No goin' too far. No threatening his host. No blowing open the Shadow's head or torture or anything like that."

I growl back at him, "This guy's at least as fucked up as Kamoshida, if not even more so. So if you're assuming we can just steal the Treasure without anything getting in our way, you've got another thing coming. I don't intend to _kill_ him. But, hell. In the heat of the moment, if it's him or me, I'd rather it be him."

"Course you would."

"You would, too. Doubt _you_ 'd wanna die at the hands of some sick asshole who'd sooner have you salted and raped for a few bucks."

"Look, _you_ can be a sick psycho murdering piece of shit, but that doesn't mean the rest of us have to be!"

"I didn't kill Kobayakawa," I tell him. "Probably."

"Probably!?"

"Niijima said he went to a police station. A police station that was several blocks away from his house. He lived near a highway. If he wanted to kill himself he could've thrown himself into traffic there. She suspects that I actually did manage to change his heart, that time. That the guy who ran him over was someone from the yakuza who wanted to keep his mouth shut."

Sakamoto finally shuts the hell up for the first time since I met him. Takamaki's about to say something, but Yoshizawa cuts in.

"You said _probably_ like you're not even sure of it yourself."

I shake my head, "I don't know what to tell you. There're times when I just get so heated that I...I look at myself, like I'm watching myself from somewhere up in the sky. Like I'm not even a part of my own body. Just letting it run on autopilot. That's what it felt like with Kobayakawa."

"Why?" she asks. "What did he do to you?"

I exhale. "He planned to divert attention away from the school onto me. But once everything would die down, he planned to have you three distribute his drugs for him."

"So _that_ 's why you went into his Palace? For us?" Sakamoto growls, like he can't believe it.

"I don't know. Maybe it was for you. Maybe it was because I despised the idea of this fatass getting away with all the shit he'd pulled. Can't say for sure."

"Senpai..."

"I'm outta here," Sakamoto brushes past me. "See ya tomorrow."

He makes his way out of the alley, hands in his pockets.

Pot is on boil. This'll either kill us or it won't. If we fuck up, at best Niijima has us all expelled, at worst the yakuza will turn us into armless legless cocksleeves for the rest of our lives. No second chances. We're getting this yakuza asshole.

Who knows. Maybe Kana'll stop watching me if I actually choose to spare this guy's life.

* * *

**.**

**.**

**.**

**6 / 4 / 2016**

Told Maruki last night to delay our talk a little more. He was ambivalent about it, but willing to let it be. If I wasn't comfortable with it, etcetera etcetera, therapist stock phrases, see you again next time.

That's not to say I'm not stressed. I'm stressed like a _motherfucker_ , but hell. I wanna get this Palace bullshit over with. When it all ends I can unload everything and hopefully form coherent sentences that mostly make sense to people who don't even know what the hell Palaces even are.

But that's for another time. The group chat in my phone is blaring.

> **「Ann Takamaki:」** Sure're a lotta high schoolers out in the day. They must be targeting em somehow.
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** Finding specifics in a crowd'll be pretty difficult.
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** You guys where you need to be? I'm w/ @Yoshizawa down here
> 
> **「Ann Takamaki:」** Yup! I'm at the underground mall. @Hikawa, @Niijima, hbu?
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** niijima's talking to some suspicious types already
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Huh. Good on her then
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** Let's do our best, everyone!

I've made it to Central Street about ten minutes later than Niijima did. She's already looking around the place, hoping to find any shady bastards she can use to put an end to this bullshit.

With her luck she'll be found out in about three or so seconds.

Time to get to work.

* * *

An hour and a half of nothing happens. Five PM turns to six thirty real fucking quick and I'm running outta options. Messages are few and far between for any sorta comfort, but from what I can tell the others don't have that much luck finding shit either.

My pessimistic ass can't help but think that Niijima's probably gonna saunter on back to us with like twelve different leads and that smug fucking smile on her face, while we're wandering the district like stupid assholes.

But in my desperation I come across some homeless-looking person I find in an alleyway. Tall guy, standing alone, large cap that hides most o' his face while wearing dark green clothes. I think he's pretty shady, so I ask for a "part-time job." And you know what he says in response?

"Hmm? Part-time job...? That some kinda code word? Got no idea what you're talking about, kid. I haven't been here long. Go ask someone else."

Fucking hell, of course not. Act on your hunch and please produce something that makes this bullshit worth it, "Can you introduce me?"

Tall guy winces, "Ain't so easy. I...only know one guy around here..."

My eyes light up like a switch flicked on in my soul, "Where is he?"

"Sometimes I see him in the alley across the way...dunno if he's there today, though. Might be near the station. Go there if you wanna find him."

Homeless guy in a train station. Shit. "Is there anything that makes him stand out?"

Guy shrugs. "Long, shaggy white hair. Pudgy face, big round nose, bigger than his eye. Scar along his mouth, like he'd been cut."

Wordlessly, I nod, pulling out a few coins from my wallet and tossing 'em to him.

Phone begins buzzing again as I push myself untoward the station.

> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** U guys doin aight?
> 
> **「Ann Takamaki:」** Gonna try staking out the underground walkway, nothing so far from the mall :P
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** I'll check out the mall, just in case!
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Headin' to Inogami Line, from underground
> 
> **「** **Ann Takamaki:」** @Hikawa, any leads on your end?
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** kind of. i'll let you know when i get there
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Where's @Niijima at

"Hikawa-san."

Niijima. Right in front of me. Both of us, at the plaza of the station, surrounded by crowds of people that don't know shit.

"You seem to be working hard," she says, and I can't tell if she's sincere or sarcastic given my biases. "Have you found any clues?"

"You first. I think I have something, but I want to know if you've got anything better."

"I haven't found any leads so far," she sighs. "Just been wandering around the place, looking for answers from people who didn't even understand the questions I asked them."

"Well, I don't have much more than you do. Homeless guy pointed me in the direction of the station. Apparently there's a guy with long and shaggy white hair. Cut along the mouth, big nose. He might have some knowledge on this whole operation."

Niijima cups her jaw, "He's probably in the underground. Let's go."

The two of us descend back into the subway station, staying rather close as we wordlessly make our way through the crowds. If you told me many weeks ago, I'd be trying to stop a crime lord with her by my side, I'd have laughed at you and pushed you into a train. If you told me she was blackmailing me to do it, I'd just push you into the train.

After five minutes of more wandering, eventually we _do_ find this other homeless guy. Sitting atop a pile of flattened cardboard, and wearing large clothes that seem like they haven't been washed in literal decades. Bears all the features that were mentioned to me; long and shaggy hair, big nose, cut along the mouth. But what the other guy didn't mention was that he also had a rosy-red face. Not because he's drunk or because he's blushing or whatnot; he's got rashes and peeled skin all across his forehead, cheeks, and lip area, like he's been heavily sunburnt.

"What's with that scary look on your face, kid?" he grunts, his voice croaking out each syllable. "You have somethin' to say to me, just say it."

Niijima steps in before I even say anything, "We're looking for a part-time job."

"A _part-time job_ , huh?" Guy has a knowing glance in his eyes. "Ohh, you ain't lookin' for any normal kinda part-time job, are ya."

"No, we aren't."

He makes a _pssh_ noise, "Lady, don't go 'round lookin' all serious-like. Your boyfriend over there ain't gonna tolerate ya for very long."

Any other situation, I'd laugh at how pissed she looks at the idea of me being her boyfriend. "Can you tell us where we can get this part-time job, or _not_?"

"Don't do it," he growls, shaking his head at her. "Some o' my old friends have fallen victim to their schemes. This brancha yakuza is one you don't wanna get involved with. They're evil to the bone."

"Is this the one led by Sakahagi?"

Homeless guy blurts out in laughter, flecks of spit spluttering out his half-toothless mouth. "You know what they call him and you _still_ wanna join up? Dunno if you're brave or stupid, lady."

"How do we meet them?"

He leans back into his cardboard pile and sticks his jaw out, "They'll come to ya eventually, if you go around the alleyways near here, or even just the plaza, right about...now. Mostly keen on girls, guys are useful in their own way. Just so you know _who to avoid_ , I'mma tell you how to snuff 'em out from other people round here."

Niijima kneels down to him, eye level, "Tell us."

"They use some, _weird_ phrases. Code words. Product is _Garbage_. Victims are _Pigs_. Whoever his cronies are, they're _Flies_. That's how they communicate with each other. They're relentless when it comes to teens, especially pretty young people like you two. Boss doesn't give a shit about gender, so long as ya look good in his eyes."

"Do you know his name?" I ask him. "This Sakahagi."

"No. Guy keeps his cards super close to his chest. And even if I did know I wouldn't tell you shit."

Niijima sighs, then stands up. "Thank you."

"Just disappear 'afore they see you."

* * *

"One step forward, two steps back...," Niijima sighs. "What're you doing?"

"Reading the group chat. Try it sometime."

> **「Ann Takamaki:」** How's it going? You found anything?
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** maybe a little
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** Why don't we go over the intel we've gathered so far?
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** I'll start.
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Supposedly some guy near the accessway talkin bout some kinda *strong drugs*
> 
> **「Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Not countin on anything but Imma check it out
> 
> **「Ann Takamaki:」** As for me, I heard about someone soliciting a "high-paying job" in the station plaza.
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** Strange things happening in the back alley near the arcade, apparently. Weirdos talking about snow and vegetables? Dunno if that means anything

Niijima shuffles her phone out her pocket.

> **「Makoto Niijima:」** Hikawa-san and I have learned that apparently, they use codewords to discuss trade. They call themselves flies, the victims are pigs, their product is called garbage.
> 
> **「Ann Takamaki:」** Why would you call the drugs you're selling garbage? You'd think they'd come up with a better codename
> 
> **「Makoto Niijima:」** Its real name on the market is likely something more appealing. Also, sorry that I haven't been frequently messaging in the chat room.

Nobody responds after that.

"I'll try the alleyways," I tell her.

"Alright, I'll stick around the station plaza."

* * *

Awful lotta alleyways in Central Street. Nobody approaches me, nobody so much as looks my direction one way or another. Save Kana, of course. A sale from suspicious types here and there, but nothing involving drugs or yakuza. Cops patrolling the streets, bitching about low pay or how nobody treats the police seriously anymore. Ignorant kids running to arcades or movie theaters or fast food restos. Probably gonna have to do more recon tomorrow, perhaps the day after.

Unless they're already onto us, and they've gotten suspicious.

Fuck.

"Hikawa-san."

Niijima arrives, meeting me in an alley leading to a small gym.

The hell? It hasn't been that long since I left her at the plaza. It's only been...an hour, according to my phone. Shit.

"Have you made any progress on your end?" she asks.

"No. I'm assuming there was no one in the plaza, either?"

She shakes her head, her lips pursed. "I've a feeling they've caught on to us by now..."

But just as she says that, I see a greasy man in a Hawaiian shirt come up from behind her, slinking over to us from the streets.

"Hey, you two got some time? I have a great job for you..." Guy sounds like how shoe polish smells, and though the creases in his callused face make him look like he's in his late thirties, he carries himself like a man in his mid-twenties. "It's real easy. Guess you could call it a delivery job."

Niijima turns to me, giving a small grin, one that's totally unwarranted given the circumstances. 

"You're high schoolers, yeah?" Grease continues, "Don'tcha want somethin' more than just your allowances?"

She's handled herself well thus far. So when she decides to speak up, I'm inclined to let the cards fall where they may. "Hm... by delivery, do you mean that of suspicious materials?"

My mistake.

"Heh. You're a funny girl..."

"Actually, we--"

"So," she butts in again, "you won't answer me? Then I was right..."

She can make a pretty solid case against me for what happened to Kamoshida, but _holy shit_ she can't confront people to save her life. Guy looks like he's losing his patience, gets all up in her grill and she stands her ground all the while, "What's up with you anyways? Why're you askin' all these questions, huh?"

"One-one-zero."

"What--?"

The both of them turn and I already have my phone out. I glare at the Grease and Niijima looks like she's surprised; Grease steps back and tries to brush it off with a smirk.

"It was all a joke... why would I get worked up over some dumb kids?" He sees my eyes, scoffs again, "Anyways, I can't hang. See ya."

"U-um," Niijima stammers, "if you don't want to deal with us, we could always go see your boss ourselves."

"You really gonna say that, knowin' who he is?" He shakes his head. "Well, I'm outta here. You guys're annoying me."

There goes our first lead in two fucking hours, "Goddammit."

Niijima says, eyes all stern, "I'm pretty sure he's part of the yakuza branch we're looking for."

I groan, "I'm _amazed_ you figured it out."

"Excuse me?"

"You're supposed to sound like some stupid fucking kid desperate for cash. Instead you spoke like a goddamn cop. Of course he got suspicious."

Then our phones buzz. I turn away from her, refusing to see whatever kinda stuck-up stubborn look she's got on now.

> **「** **Ryuji Sakamoto:」** How bout it, wanna meet up?
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** bad idea
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** What's wrong?
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** it's late. we've gone round the fucking place for like two hours, they'll have figured something's up by now. we should leave before they get too suspicious. report on our findings tomorrow.
> 
> **「** **Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Frreal? U think so?
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** best not to take any chances.
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** @Niijima senpai, what do you think we should do?

Niijima, for some reason, takes a moment to type back a response.

> **「Makoto Niijima:」** He's right. It's best if we head home. I wouldn't put it past them to be trying to follow us even now.
> 
> **「Ann Takamaki:」** Alright then. How bout we meet up at karaoke tomorrow? We can talk in private and it'll be cheap after school.
> 
> **「** **Ryuji Sakamoto:」** Not a bad idea.
> 
> **「Kasumi Yoshizawa:」** I'm up for it. @Hikawa, @Niijima, are you guys okay with it?
> 
> **「Makoto Niijima:」** Alright.
> 
> **「Kazuya Hikawa:」** sure

Look at us, all arranging meetings like a goddamn thieves' guild.

"I'm sorry I rushed myself into it," Niijima mutters, lips pursed and eyes downcast. "Thank you, for sticking up for me. I'll be going now."

She heads out the alleyway, melting into the crowds.

Only lead we've made throughout the whole day and it gets cocked up by someone desperate to be useful in a mission she's got no place in. Two hour stakeout leads to jackshit on all fronts, and for as far as we've come I'd much rather have _something_ before the end of the day.

So a brainwave hits and I'm pretty pissed I hadn't thought of it sooner. I fish out a white paper rectangle from my pocket and dial the number, huddling into a corner somewhere away from the crowds.

_Jyoji Hijiri, freelance journalist. How can I help you?_

"I'm from Shujin Academy. Yesterday you gave me your card. I'm willing to exchange information on Kamoshida and Kobayakawa. Are you willing to meet up tonight?"

Guy makes a _Hmmm_ sound, _That depends. You know how to get to Shinjuku, right?_

"Yes. What time are you free."

I can sense his smile on the other end of the phone. _Eight PM. Don't be late. I like my informants punctual. Meet me at a bar called Crossroads._

* * *

I call Maruki and tell him I'll be late arriving home. Shift at the flower shop. He smells that something's up, but he'll save it for when I come home.

Journalists are bloodsuckers, ninety-percent of the time. Personally would rather not associate with 'em in any way shape or form, but I'm not letting today go to waste. So I fucking go to Shinjuku. I pass through the crowds, head straight for the red-light district. Even as I wade my way through the masses Kana remains by my side. Neon lights and store signs fucking everywhere, department stores, electronic stores, camera shops, cinemas, restaurants. All over the place. Online maps say Crossroads is somewhere deep in.

When I finally get there it's surprisingly quiet and calming, at least compared to the outside. Purple ambience all around. Strong scent of alcohol, of course. There's a person at the counter whom I can't quite distinguish as either male or female

"Welcome, welcome!" They're a large sort. A deep voice, strong and hardy, one you'd expect from a guy. But they wear a deep blue kimono, suited for a woman; their hair is long, goes down to the base of their neck; they wear lipstick and makeup and I'm too impatient to really process things right now, so for the sake of things I'll use "they/them" pronouns until proven otherwise. They ask, "How old are ya, boy?"

"I'm eighteen years old."

"Sorry, Lala-chan, he's with me." I see Hijiri at the counter, getting up off his seat and walking over to me. Throwing an arm over my shoulders he tells them, "He's a lead on the whole Shujin story."

"Well. Make sure he doesn't drink anything, will you? Still underaged, as far as alcohol's concerned."

"I know my laws," he coughs, "most of the time. What do you take me for, Lala-chan? He's got his whole future ahead of him. Not gonna try anything. I'm gonna borrow the seats in the back, if you don't mind."

"I'll get you both some water," says Lala-chan, shuffling over to the back end of the bar.

Hijiri stinks of booze, but judging from how he's carrying himself, he's far from drunk. Either he has high tolerance or he just stays in this place too long for his own good. When we make our way to the back, we're both in this massive booth with purple leather seats, the table wide enough for about eight people. Smooth jazz plays over the speakers and Hijiri tents his fingers like he's fucking Gendo or something.

"You said you wanna exchange information. Whatever you want me to tell you, first and foremost lemme say, just to let you know where I'm at: I mostly work for big news outlets. The Times. Maiasia News. Etcetera Etcetera. Lots of people're looking into Shujin, now more than ever. Place was never a particularly prestigious school, but it was good enough. Then Kamoshida got outed as a serial rapist, and whoever your principal was, was found to be a drug pusher. Most scoops surrounding the school are from an outsider's perspective. Just enough for little byte-sized pieces on television, where hosts ask the type of questions that get the most shares on social media. I wanna get an answer straight from the horse's mouth. Even anonymous, a single testimony can work wonders these days."

"Why do you wanna know about it so badly?"

"To be frank," he clears his throat, "there's a trend I noticed recently that nobody seems keen on covering, some reason. You read the news on all those mental shutdown cases?"

I purse my lips. "Yeah."

"So you know about how shit like this's been goin' on recently? Normal, regular people, suddenly turning mad in the blink of an eye and doing horrible shit for no reason whatsoever. Well. More often than _not_ , victims of these shutdowns'd be found to have had some major skeletons in their closet after their little breakdowns. The whole Kamoshida and Kobayakawa situation really rubs me the wrong way. Gives me a similar vibe, but something's off."

"What's off?"

"Well, they confessed--or at least in Kobayakawa's case, seemingly tried to--when most don't even try confessing in the first place. They just run up to people, stab them, get apprehended and remember nothing after the fact. Or kill themselves before the cops can even get to them. I'd like to know more. It's all a little strange. You read enough of the news, you come to know that pieces of shit like them don't _really_ get epiphanies. It's almost supernatural. Real intrigued about it."

"I wasn't one of his victims," I tell him. "But I can get you in contact with more than a few."

"You sure? Do they know you're here?"

"No."

"That's pretty cold of you."

"Thing is, you might have information we need. So as long as we get it, I'm sure that they'll be more than happy to chat it up with you about anything regarding Kamoshida or the principal."

"And you won't give me their contact info so long as I don't give _you_ what you need."

"Correct."

"So it seems we're at a bit of a stalemate here. You need something from me, I from you. Drive a hard bargain, kid."

Lala-chan returns, silently placing a tray with two large glasses of ice water. Hijiri grabs one and downs half of it in one gulp.

"Do you know who Sakahagi is."

He lightly _slam_ s the glass down upon the tray and starts laughing, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Sakahagi. Now, why the hell would _you_ want anything to do with that bastard? Not that I don't respect your bravery, but...well. I guess bravery's too good a word."

"I need to know who he is. Tell me and I'll give you the numbers of the people involved in the Kamoshida case."

"The hell are you gonna do if I tell you _anything_ about Sakahagi?"

"Whatever I need to do on my end. Now, tell me."

"You're that desperate to know about him, huh?"

"Yes."

"What'd he do to you?"

"Work with my principal, to have kids from my school, run around selling drugs for him."

He whistles. "You just dropped a bomb on me, kid. Ever since he got outed, there were whispers going 'round about Kobayakawa _maybe_ having a connection to Sakahagi. You just confirmed it. That said, where'd you get your info?"

"Part of student council. Students coming to me for help with their bad decisions."

"Well, just to be safe, I'll keep this off the record. Both you and I seem like a pair o' shady little businessmen, so I guess I'll take it easy for now. You need Sakahagi's name, right?"

"Yes."

"You're gonna lemme interview people about the shit going on in Shujin, right?"

"Yes. But they have to be kept anonymous."

"Sure, if they ask. Do we have a deal?" Stretches his hand out.

I take it. "Deal."

"Junya Kaneshiro."

"What?"

"Junya Kaneshiro." I feel my phone vibrate. "He's prolly the guy you're looking for. Not much is known about his past. But, hell. You heard about Gonzaburo Takayama?"

"I think I read his story, once."

"Yakuza fuck suffered a mental break at his own kid's birthday party. Nearly killed his own son, blew open the heads of seven of his own men, and crippled five. After that went down, suddenly this Kaneshiro piece 'a shit started rising through the ranks. Was the head of a relatively small family, subordinate to the Takayamas. After Gonzaburo died, Kaneshiro went on a warpath. Suddenly began carving his way through the goddamned underworld. In three months, dozens of yakuza patriarchs and their families, even their children, ended up getting Houdini'd all over. At least, those who didn't surrender to him on the spot. After those three months, Kaneshiro kinda reigned supreme for a bit. Then he disappeared. _Then_ this Sakahagi seems to take his place."

"How can you tell they're the same guy?"

"No real _proof_ on that front. But Kaneshiro and Sakahagi have the same MO. Target kids, teens. Get them all interested in making a little dough. Then as they regret their choices, threaten their families and friends and make them run their bodies dry trying to repay their debts. Throw their drug-addled, emaciated bodies out on the streets to rot, once you're done with them."

"And the cops aren't doing anything to stop him? If you know so much, they obviously must have at least some idea."

"He's an informant. That's why the cops won't touch him."

"What?"

"Most likely the case. Guy now has a pretty sizeable hold on the yakuza. Knows which people go where, who's secretly funding whom, who's stealing from whom, who's trynna get too big for their britches, who's trying to involve themselves in SIU business. So every now and again he trades info in exchange for protection. Makes sense, doesn't it?"

"Sounds like one big conspiracy theory."

"Most of the bullshit you find in declassified documents sound like conspiracy theories.

"So he's a kingpin, you'd say."

"He's a boss of bosses of bosses. Ambitous as he is ruthless, but even he knows when to draw the line. He victimizes x amount of people, just enough to further his drug running, but never x plus one. Because the instant he shows a little too much courage, they'll help fund some other stooge to take his place."

"So we can't trust the cops to take him down."

"Yeah. But who the hell trusts cops to do anything?"

I pull out a piece of paper, write down Sakamoto and Takamaki's numbers, before tossing it to him and getting out my seat. "Call those numbers."

"Take care of yourself, kid," he grins. "Hopefully I'll see you again. Preferably still alive."

I open my phone as I head out the door.

**Candidate Found**

Got you, you piece of shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Revised chapter 23, added the whole section at the end with Hijiri.  
> Next time is where things gets real. Not kidding.


End file.
